Every Little Trait
by Symbolist
Summary: Every little trait, however small... The original collection of Wicked drabbles. Complete 1.20.07
1. Beginnings

_Author's Note: So, as many of you may have noticed over at the RENT category, there's this thing called rent100. Well, there are other versions of it too (I've seen Smallville and Harry Potter) so I decided that, using the same prompts, I'm going to do my own "wicked100." So this will be a collection of drabbles based on the musical and book, Wicked. :-)_

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**No Place like Home  
**001. Beginnings  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

As Elphaba stepped out of the carriage, she finally felt home.

Elphaba's grip on the handle of the ugly brown suitcase tightened as the first spirals of the buildings that were Shiz University came into sight. Nessarose was grinning from ear to ear as well and their father held his younger daughter's hand in his own, stroking it gently with affection. But right now, Elphaba felt no jealousy towards her beautiful younger sister – her green eyes were locked on the view that was now spreading before their eyes.

The sleek black turrets on the buildings satisfied Elphaba's eyes; she had waited seventeen years for this moment. She could practically feel the magic of Shiz calling her name.

The blue and white banners hanging from the various peeks waved gently in the wind, welcoming Elphaba and the other new students of Shiz University. Elphaba's heartbeat stepped up and her breath caught in her throat.

As Elphaba stepped out of the carriage, she finally felt home.


	2. Fire

_Author's Note: Another drabble today, maybe if I get bored I'll add another.

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**Candlelight  
**052. Fire  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The minute flame of the candle flickered, and both girls looked up in alarm to ensure that it had not gone out. The candle had been lit with their last match and if it was blown out, they would have no light to study by for Morrible's exam the following morning.

Galinda's flaxen curls bounced as she turned back to her heavy book, but even as the azure eyes rolled from left to right she found each word to be duller than the word before it and gradually the lines began blurring together. Her roommate's legs were kicking up and down on the bed.

The candlelight accented Elphaba's features, gracing her with a strange, exotic beauty. Her skin paled in the light, drowning out the emerald tones and bringing an angular touch to the way she rests her chin in her hand, and how she shifts her body.

Without even a glance backwards, Elphaba flicks a long finger at the fireplace and violet flames spring up instantly. Galinda sits up quickly, thrilled at Elphaba's display of magic. "Elphaba! You weren't even angry!"

"Go to bed, Galinda."

The fire went out.


	3. Snow

_Author's Note: The third drabble…And I just realized I've been forgetting the disclaimer. So:_

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

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**Snowflakes  
**067. Snow  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda's cloak is made of pale blue silk with intricate brocades embroidered throughout. White fur lines the inside to keep her warm in the harsh winter of the Emerald City. She parades down Central Street, following dutifully behind Madame Morrible and smiling and waving at the citizens on either side.

The snowflakes float around Glinda and they remind her somehow of Elphaba. Perhaps it was the Elphaba's cold nature, her sarcastic wit. But then again, it seems that everything these days reminds her of Elphaba.

_Is this what I exchanged for friendship? Parades through crowds of smiling faces, dressed as the Ice Princess of the North?_

_Is it worth it?_

The snow falls heavier now, in bigger chunks as though the flakes had forgotten to separate themselves. The snow adorns Glinda's hair and her eyelashes and her shoulders.

And, in a moment of true dignification, Glinda the Good throws her head back, opens her mouth, and catches a snowflake on her tongue.


	4. He

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: This drabble was selected by daydreamer731. I couldn't decide which prompt to use and she picked "He," probably because it's one of the harder ones.

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**Eye Contact  
**084. He  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

He may be short, but he's sweet, and to Nessarose that's all that counts.

He wears high waters and neckties and that strange purple hat. Nessarose doesn't exactly understand how someone of a Munchkin's stature could possibly find high watered pants, but he did it.

He pushes her chair through the halls, giving her arms a break from the constant wheeling. She makes sure she thanks him every time, but he just smiles and nods and runs off to class.

He kisses her cheek when she asks him to. He kissed her lips once, but that was Nessarose's doing. He leaned down to kiss her cheek as she asked him to, and just as his lips brushed her ear, she turned quickly and kissed him.

He never looks at her. She's noticed that within the past week. Well, she supposes that's not entirely true. He looks at her, but he never meets her gaze. Nessarose tries to attract his attention to her eyes by batting her long, dark lashes, but he never makes eye contact. It hurts her.

He is Boq.

And she loves him.


	5. Strangers

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: For clarification, a drabble is a short fic. Usually about 100 words, although I exceed this limit a lot haha._

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Glittering Shoes and Gaudy Pigtails  
025. Strangers  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

025. Strangers 

I open my eyes and try to move, but my entire body is numb. Beams of sun give the world around me a golden yellow glow – but a second look shows me that I'm standing the middle of an enormous corn field.

And my body is made of straw.

What has Elphaba done?

A little girl suddenly pops up and balances herself in a sitting position on the fence in front of me. The white paint is peeling, but it's sturdy enough to hold her. Her dress is in a strange style that I don't recognize, blue and white plaid. A pair of glittering shoes adorns her feet and there is something dreadfully familiar about those pumps. Her hair is pulled back in a pair of gaudy pigtails and as she looks at me with azure eyes, I sense an annoying curiosity in this girl.

Her little, black dog lets out a yip.

And I wink at her.


	6. Sixth Sense

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

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Violet Lightning  
035. Sixth Sense  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

035. Sixth Sense 

She was only ten years old the first time the strange violet lightning flew from her fingers.

Nessarose, eight at the time, had caught a Squirrel and was tormenting it by pulling on its bushy tail. Elphaba didn't remember much except being extremely angry and a feeling of release surging through her body – somehow, the violet lightning formed at her finger tips and it seized Nessarose's chair, shaking it violently. The screaming girl let the Squirrel go and never touched an Animal again.

Elphaba had been in so much trouble for that accident. But three years later, when Nessarose angered her again by teasing her for the random powers, Elphaba electrocuted her sister, rather than just the chair. She though Frexspar was going to murder her.

And when they left for Shiz, Nessarose said something again about Elphaba's dreams of being the Wizard's aide one day and the lightning came a third time. That was when Elphaba's father made her swear that there would be no use of her powers at Shiz – of course, Elphaba had no control over that, but she wasn't about to take a beating for that.

Then Morrible saw her powers at Shiz when the anger magic took control of Nessarose and her chair once more. And that was the beginning of Elphaba's control over the violet lightning. And that was the end of the violet lightning's control over Elphaba.


	7. If

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

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**Yes  
**082. If  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

If she had gone with Elphaba, would things have been different?

It's a dumb question. Of course they would have.

Maybe the Wizard could have been stopped. It's harder to convince people that two people are wrong. More so than one, at least. Maybe they could have saved Doctor Dillamond. Fiyero would have joined them, and maybe Nessarose and Boq could have been persuaded to join them. A group of people is harder to protest than just one person.

If Glinda had said "yes" and climbed onto the back of the broomstick with Elphaba, would the world have ultimately been a better place?

She knows the answer.

They all know the answer.

Yes.


	8. What?

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

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**He Knew  
**077. What?  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The first time Boq had walked outside and seen it fly by through the sky, the only word that escaped his lips was, "What?"

It seemed like it was a flying _broomstick._

When word had spread from the Emerald City to the governor's mansion in Munchkinland of the defiant green woman flying around on the broomstick, Boq knew it was Elphaba. And he knew, essentially, that she wasn't wicked. Elphaba had always been kind to him back at Shiz. He figured she was grateful for the consideration he showed toward Nessarose. Even if it was all an act.

But when Elphaba showed up in Nessarose's room, he panicked – even if he knew in the back of his mind that she was the same old Elphie, the front of his mind screamed, "WICKED!" Just like the rest of Oz.

How unfortunate.

He had become one of the crowd. No longer was he the unique Boq, the nerd with the crush on the popular girl. No longer did he not care about what everyone else thought. He was in the "in-crowd" now. He might not have been accepted by them, but he was going with the crowd now. Now that he was no longer in college. Now that the "in-crowd" no longer mattered.

Funny how things work that way.


	9. Yellow

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

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**Follow the Yellow Brick Road  
**013. Yellow_  
by Fiyero Oberon_

Boq groans – all he has seen for hours is yellow. Yellow ahead and yellow behind. That hideous Yellow Brick Road taunts him with its ugly expanse of color.

He knows in the back of his mind that the Road itself is not what bothers him – he is merely taking his frustration out on something that never hurt anyone. No, the Road does not bother him; it's that blasted girl.

She doesn't shut up!

Her mouth is constantly moving up and down, her tongue rolling out words that no longer make sense to him. He wonders in private how her vocal chords can withstand their constant use – any normal person would have talked themselves hoarse after all these hours. The Scarecrow, beside him, seems to be able to put up with the girl's constant chatter with slightly more ease, but Boq has observed several winces from him as well.

Even that dog doesn't make as much noise as she does.

The Lion's sudden appearance sends a blood-curling scream from her and she finally stops talking as she grabs Toto and ducks behind a boulder.

And then they're back to the yellow.

That ugly yellow.

Ugh.


	10. Colorless

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note:_ _Reviews are still greatly appreciated. :-D_

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**Unique  
**020. Colorless  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Stop it!" Galinda snapped. Elphaba didn't even look up. "Elphaba! Oh, please. Stop being a baby."

Elphaba lifted her chin. "Excuse me?"

"You've been sulking for the last three days! Ever since that Winkie girl said something about your skin. Stop it, now. It's annoying! Believe it or not, you're not the only one in Oz with some abnormality about their person!"

Elphaba's eyebrow arched. "Those are some big words, Galinda. You're improving."

"Elphaba, please! Your green skin makes you unique."

"I know. But sometimes I just –"

"Just what? Just wish there was no color to your skin? That you were _normal_? Well, listen up! I've been wishing since I was little that I had something unique about me. _Every_ Gillikin has these blonde curls. _Every _little rich girl has a pony and three kittens. Growing up, half the girls in my class had my same _name._ So stop sulking about standing out. At least you don't fit in."

And with that, Galinda threw herself on her bed, hurled her frilly pillow at Elphaba's head, and blew out the lamp.


	11. Parents

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note:_ _Rating upped to T now because of this and future drabbles._

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**Time to Think  
**027. Parents  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The balloon ride gives me plenty of time to think.

The people of Oz never knew my name – I was always just the Wizard. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Oscar Diggs more or less ceased to exist after the balloon landed. And after I had the Yellow Brick Road built and Ozmatown became the Emerald City, my life in Omaha was officially over. I was now the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the Great and Terrible, who could grant any wish but granted very few.

More because I was incapable of granting the wishes than because I found them unworthy.

The wishes were really just a way of getting things done. It was very simple: in order to have a wish granted, you must prove yourself by performing a task. I told you to do something that I needed to get done – like wiping out a threat or providing me with defenses of some sort – then I told you that the way you had accomplished the task was unacceptable and I banished you from my sight.

But Elphaba had been different.

She proved herself more than worthy, and I couldn't reject it. After viewing what she was capable of, it would have been dangerous to deny her what she wanted. Unfortunately, what she wanted could have put my plans in jeopardy and suddenly I was in danger either way.

Maybe I just made the wrong decision.

I know I made the wrong decision.

Who knew a little green bottle could bring so much pain? If I had known… Oh, if I had only known I would have stopped the restriction of Animal rights. All I ever wanted was a child… and I had been foolish enough to have my only child killed.

The balloon has caught fire now. The ropes are burning through and the wind is changing directions, blowing me dangerously off course.

And I do nothing to stop it.


	12. Broken

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Reviews appreciated, as always._

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**Broken  
**071. Broken_  
by Fiyero Oberon_

Elphaba and Fiyero run off together. And Glinda is left in the Wizard's throne room. Alone. And broken.

"I hope you're happy!" she shouts out the window. She knows they can't hear her, but she feels better anyway.

Turning around, she looks down at herself. She had this gown created for this very event – for their anniversary ball. It had seemed beautiful when she saw it for the first time. Now it just seems gaudy.

Funny how things work that way. To the world, Glinda is perfection impersonated. She is a delicate flower, "the Lily of Oz," to quote the Ozmopolitan. But to Glinda, she is a dandelion – seemingly pretty and harmless, but actually just a weed that is secretly making things worse for everyone.

She grabs the water martini from where she left it on a table in the Wizard's chambers and hurls it to the floor – the clear glass shatters and lies in fragments across the emerald floor.

Glinda retires to her chambers and cries herself to sleep. Alone. And broken.


	13. Death

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Most of these drabbles have been based on the musical, but some of those to come will be based on the novel by Gregory Maguire. This drabble is one of them. If there is no note designating that a drabble is based on the novel, you can assume it's based on the musical. :-)_

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**Faded Rose  
**030. Death_  
by Fiyero Oberon_

At Fiyero's death, Elphaba went into shock.

At Nessarose's death, there had many people to express remorse. Dorothy shed tears for her, Glinda left her flowers, Elphaba mourned for days.

At Morrible's death, many cried. She was a well-known public figure and her death, however expected, was mourned.

At Elphaba's death there were celebrations – but tucked away in a corner of Gillikin, Glinda the Good was locked up, sobbing.

But at Glinda's death, there was no one. She lied on her bed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks, knowing the end was coming. She clutched a faded pink rose tightly in her hand, until the wicked little thorns drew blood from her palm. Her golden curls were spread on the pillow, their shine gone and replaced with streaks of gray.

No one mourns the wicked.

But who mourns the good?


	14. Enemies

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I'm too uncreative to write an author's note right now. And for those wondering, yes, it is Galinda talking._

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**How Disgusticifying  
**022. Enemies_  
by Fiyero Oberon_

Oh my goodness, did you see her?

No, no, no! Her!

She has _green skin!_

What?

Yes!

Yes, that's right! _Green!_ Can you believe the atrociosity?

I have to _room_ with her. Really, she shouldn't even be called _her._ She's more like an it. What kind of a person has green skin? Is it some sort of skin condition? I don't know. Maybe it's called… verdigrism. Or… emeralditis.

Oh lands, I hadn't even thought of that! Oh, Shenshen, do you think?

Ew, that's so disgusting! She's going to get green slime all over my stuff!

I'll just divide the room in half. And instruct her she is _never_ to cross the line. That should do it. No green on my stuff. And she won't have to worry about clashing with my clothing.

No.

No!

Stop!

She is _so _disgusting.


	15. Smell

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Hey, long time no see... sorry I've been kind of idle on this one. Hopefully this will get back to more regular updates. _:-)

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**Straw  
**036. Smell_  
by Fiyero Oberon_

Fiyero knows that the smell bothers her.

It smells like straw. Like a farm. Constantly.

His metamorphosis into the Scarecrow had impacted his life more than he first thought it would. Even little things like kisses bring up challenges – either he has an awkward time moving his head toward her, because now he has no neck, or she gets the disgusting taste of his paint in her mouth.

But worst of all is the smell.

No matter where they go or what they do, he forever carries the bland stench of straw.

What he wouldn't give to be human again.

But he can't tell Elphaba that. It would hurt her so much to know he complains about her actions mentally.

But it's better than being dead.


	16. Summer

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Well, it's been a little while… here's the next drabble and I'm planning on updating this every other day from here on out, otherwise I'll never get finished…

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**Summer  
**053. Summer_  
by Fiyero Oberon_

Ah, summer. Beautiful, beautiful summer. Summer meant long, warm days and cool nights spent pleasantly out of doors with friends. Summer meant no shoes and fewer clothes. Summer meant vacations to the Emerald City for shopping and no school. That's the way it was for everyone in Oz.

Everyone except for the Great and Powerful Wizard. For Oscar Diggs, summer meant the demands increased tenfold. Summer meant more people coming to him and begging for things that really aren't necessary.

Summer meant long hours inventing new disguises. Summer meant days changing those disguises around for the viewing pleasure – or, in some cases, not so pleasurable – of the people of his land.

Summer meant coming up with excuses to not grant wishes. Summer meant looking for little details he could get people to fix as they proved themselves worthy for their own desires.

For the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, summer was the worst time of year.


	17. Diamond

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So not exactly every other day… but not as long as it took the last update…

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**Glittering Shoes  
**048. Diamond  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda waves at the little girl as she skipped down the road of yellow brick, her pretty little pigtails bouncing happily. There's something about that child that just isn't right. Perhaps she's just a bit too perfect – Glinda can't place it. But the girl is bound to cause destruction; she already has

Glinda turns back to the house where a pair of naked legs stick out from beneath the aging structure, stained gruesomely with blood. Moments before, the magnificent diamond shoes the girl now wears were placed on these stockingless feet. But now, the grim site of the bare feet disturbs Glinda and she chokes on disgust.

The Munchkinlanders have all left, either following the girl down the road in a parade of celebration or returning to their home. Glinda plucks a white slip-daisy and lays it gently on Nessarose's feet.

Glancing over her shoulder, Glinda sees the girl still skipping merrily down the Yellow Brick Road – and she can still see those diamond shoes, glittering in the sun.


	18. Too Much

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Because different drabbles may have slightly higher or lower ratings, I'm going to start posting these ratings. None will go above PG-13._

**RATING: PG-13**

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**Tease  
**033. Too Much  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Have another drink, my dark-eyed beauty…" He holds the little green bottle out to tease her.

"No, stop it – oh…" She lets out a moan as he dances his way behind her and leaves a trail of kisses down the line of her neck and shoulder.

"Come on, just a little more…" He lifts the flask to her lips, tilting it so the emerald liquid within slips through her lips.

"No – that's too much – stop…" She knows it's wrong, that it's doing something to her and she tries to push him away; but it's a half-hearted gesture because the drink is so _good_, so _sweet_…

"Come on, precious." He turns her around and kisses her mouth, letting the bottle drop to the floor and shatter.

"Oh…" She tugs gently at the buttons on his shirt.

"You know you want it." He runs his hands up and down her back; she arches toward him, deeper into their kiss.

"Mmmm…" She melts into his arms.

"Come now." He leads her back toward the bedroom, greedy for what is to come.

"Wait…" They stop. "Before we go… at least tell me your name?"

"Oscar. Oscar Diggs. And you, my love?"

"Melena. Thropp."


	19. Sound

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Aaaaand here's the next one..._

**RATING: PG-13**

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**The Noise of Shiz University  
**037. Sound  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The only thing about the dormitory at Shiz that really and truly bugged Elphaba was the sound.

The walls were so thin that Elphaba suspected that Galinda could make a decently-sized dent in them if she tried hard enough.

And of course, Shiz _was_ a college, and college students are bound to have fun. Elphaba guessed that Galinda couldn't count the number of parties the neighbors had each month without taking her socks off. But the parties were nothing compared to the disgusting moans Elphaba would hear during some nights. She had seen the ropes that the boys used to climb up the walls with and was often tempted to cut them up or steal them altogether.

And the library was a sad excuse – the librarians could not have cared less about the activities that went on between the shelves. Snogging was common and the noise was positively endless.

That was part of the reason her bond with Doctor Dillamond was so strong. When he was out, he let her use his classroom to study. It was quiet there – the only place in the entire university where silence was capable of sneaking in.


	20. Why?

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

**RATING: K+**_

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**Unless  
**080. Why?  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Why did she do that?

It was so much easier to have a mutual feeling of hatred between us! But… but… ugh! It's not fair!

I gave her a hat. That's it! A hideodious hat from an aging relative who probably drooled all over it as she packed it away. It was _ugly._ Yes, I told it looked sharp, but I mean, really…

Unless…

She trusted me?

Why would she _trust _me?

Unless…

Maybe it was her sister. That Nessadandelion girl, in the wheelchair. I got the Munchkin kid to go with her to the Ozdust with her. Was that it? Did she get me magic lessons because of the kindness I showed to Nessalily by being cruel to Biq?

Unless…

Why did Morrible go along with it?

Because Elphaba threatened to quit the program? Since when has Morrible fallen for a trick like that? She's practically known for her persuasive speeches, why didn't she just talk Elphaba into staying with the magic program, even without me?

I don't understand.

Stupid hairbrush.


	21. Birthday

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

**RATED:****G**_

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**January 8th  
**091. Birthday  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

January was never Galinda's favorite month. It was always rather bland. The snow fell heaviest in Gillikin in January and Galinda never preferred the cold. It wasn't until her first January at Shiz University that any appreciation for the first month of the year really developed.

It was January 8th. That was never an especially important day to Galinda. In fact, it was probably one of the least important days of the year. There was nothing special on January 8th. It was just another day. One of three hundred and sixty five others.

Elphaba had come into the room carrying a small brown package. Galinda hardly looked up – she was concentrating heavily on painting her nails green. Ever since she had made over Elphaba, she had realized that pink really _does_ go good with green and had begun accessorizing with cherry and lime hair pieces and shoes and purses.

"What's that?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba just shrugged. "Something from Nessa."

This made Galinda look up. Nessarose rarely showed affection toward Elphaba – she sometimes would publicly deny being a sister to her at all. Why would she just randomly give Elphaba something?

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did Nessa give you something?" Elphaba just shrugged. Galinda flounced over to Elphaba. "Come on, Elphie, what is it?" The green girl shook her head. "Is today your birthday?" She shrugged again.

Galinda let out a squeal. "OH Elphaba! Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not that big of a deal!"

"Yes it is! Oh, yes, yes it is! I need to get you something… um… okay, I'm going down to the Ozdust Boutique, don't move!"

Galinda came back a half-hour later with a black handbag and a white cake. Elphaba couldn't help but grin at the attempt at finding an Elphaba-like purse.

And from that day on, Galinda had something to look forward to in January.


	22. Circle

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Based on the book._

**RATED: PG-13**

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**Fading  
**044. Circle  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The circle was quickly fading.

Back at Shiz, there had been a circle of friends. We didn't all like each other, but we were all connected nevertheless. Some called us the Golden Circle in a teasing manner, but most of us didn't care. Our group consisted of a wide variety of the students – from the popular and the social to the introverted and the outcast.

Avaric. Galinda. Milla. Boq. Elphaba. Pfannee. Fiyero. Shenshen. Crope. Tibbett. Fiyero. Nessarose, sometimes.

But the circle was quickly fading.

Tibbett was the first to vanish, from reasons no one really understood. The Philosopher's Club messed with his head and he died. The whole situation was confusing and we tried to forget about it and move on.

Elphaba and Glinda left for the Emerald City, for help from the Wizard on a research project Elphaba, Crope, Tibbett, Boq, and poor, dead Doctor Dillamond had been working on. Glinda returned a month later, alone. Some of us would never see Elphaba again.

We graduated college and moved on with our lives – Milla and Boq were married and moved to his parents' farm in Munchkinland. Nessarose went to Munchkinland as well, to become the Eminent Thropp. Fiyero returned to his tribe in the Vinkus and Glinda and Avaric both became well-known figures in Gillikin. More faded from the circle – we lost track of Crope and Pfannee and Shenshen. Lurline knows what happened to them

Fiyero died in the Emerald City. Rumors spread among us of an affair with Elphaba, but as we had no contact with her, we never really found out for sure.

Nessarose was crushed by the house dropped by the strange storm. The girl in the house, Dorothy, would continue on to ultimately murder Elphaba in the Vinkus. Like Tibbett, none of us ever came to understand the complications of Elphaba's life and death.

Avaric died at some point, and Milla as well.

Boq grew into an old age before his death.

And now there is Glinda. Lady Glinda of Gillikin. She is all that is left of the Golden Circle, of the group of friends that used to be so happy in those days at Shiz.

We were so complete back then. And now we are gone.


	23. Earth

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry I've skipped several days of updating this... I just opened and closed our school musical, Footloose, this weekend. For those who care, I played Willard. Anyway, I should be back to regular updates for this now!_

**RATED: K+**

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**Her First Kiss  
**053. Earth  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Elphaba sits in the dirt, watching Fiyero run off.

Had he really just kissed her?

The rain stopped long ago, but the ground around her is still oozing with mud. Her green skin is stained with streaks of dirt and she knows it will take forever to clean her frock, but still, she just sits.

She examines her hands – they are long and thin and could be somewhat attractive if it weren't for that hideous emerald color on them.

Had he really just kissed her?

Never before has she been kissed – not really. Back in the days when they lived in Quadling Country, one of the boys had been dared to give the evil little green demon a kiss. She had been pinned to the ground by several children and he had jumped on top of her, pecked her lips, and run away to the well to clean out his mouth.

But had he really just kissed her?

It had been awkward – he moved his head forward quickly and they bumped foreheads, but their lips met briefly. Was it possible that Fiyero had willingly kissed her? The green one? He had Galinda, pretty-in-pink Galinda, and he had kissed _Elphaba_?

"Elphie!"

Elphaba looked up – there stood Galinda, just a few yards away. Her hair had darkened with the wet and the precipitation had glued various curls to her forehead and shoulders – the rain had started again.

"Well? Are you just going to sit there?"


	24. Triangle

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: See?I told you this would return to its normal updating pattern..._

**RATED: K+**

_

* * *

_

**Hard  
**042. Triangle  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

She had never honestly expected it to be this hard.

Before meeting Fiyero, he had always been the face on the cover of Ozmopolitan, the rich prince who flunked every school class he ever took, the adoration of every girl in Oz. But then he had become hers. And when he became hers, it became impossible for her to ever be his.

Elphaba was the disaster of her life. Without her, Glinda might have been able to make choices without wondering if it was the right one. Without her, Glinda might have been able to go through life without reading a single book. Without her, Glinda might have lived a life in ignorant bliss, unknowing to the Wizard's true intentions. Without her, Glinda might have had Fiyero.

:---:

She had never honestly expected it to be this hard.

Before meeting Fiyero, he had no significance to her. He was just a face on the cover of Glinda's Ozmopolitan, the rich prince who rallied up the entire school to go out for a night, Glinda's boyfriend. And when he came hers, it was almost impossible for her to look Glinda in the eye.

Glinda was the saving grace of her life. Without her, Elphaba might not have been able to make firm decisions, to know what was right. Without her, Elphaba might have stayed a bookworm for the rest of her life. Without her, Elphaba might have lived a life of aspirations and hopes and never actually worked to support what she believed in. Without her, Elphaba might not have had Fiyero.

:---:

He had never honestly expected it to be this hard.

Before meeting Glinda, life had no significance whatsoever. He was just a face on the cover o the Ozmopolitan, the rich prince whose parents were so disappointed in him, though the rest of Oz loved him. And when he became Glinda's, it became impossible to think straight. Not that he did much thinking in the first place.

Glinda and Elphaba had changed his life. Without Glinda, Fiyero might not have ever noticed Elphaba. Without Elphaba, Fiyero might have stayed the superficial idiot he had been. Without them, Fiyero might have lived a life that he thought he wanted, but he secretly hated with a passion. Without Elphaba, Fiyero would have died.

He loved them both. He really did. It was just a different kind of love for each of them.


	25. Orange

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: There's a bit of hinting at Galindaba in this one(although I don't support it… it came out of my fingers on its own)._

**RATED: T**

_

* * *

_

**Breakfast  
**012. Orange  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Her eyes open slowly and she stretches, groggily trying to slip out of sleepiness. The feather mattress is not a comfort she is used to having and she decides that it is difficult to sleep on, at least after she has been sleeping on hard pallets since she was small. Any and all comforts went to her pampered younger sister.

Her stomach growled angrily at her. The trip to Shiz had involved very few stops for food. Nanny was so old that she didn't know the difference between hunger and the feeling of being full and Elphaba was too anxious to get to the university to ask for breaks. Dinner had been skipped the previous night because she was too excited to finally be here; she opted to explore the gardens and the libraries and the café instead of sitting down for an hour to eat. Elphaba say eating as an unfortunate chore impressed upon her because if she didn't, she would die.

Her eyes flicker across the room toward the bed on the other side. The blonde is twisted among pink and white satin sheets, her flaxen curls spread out in all directions on a fluffy violet pillow. She lets out a soft groan and rolls over, slapping the mattress in a violent dream-war. Her small, white hand moves up to wipe at the line of drool that has run down her chin and her pale eyes pop open. She sits up and stretches, letting out an enormous yawn, and begins working on the buttons of her nightdress.

Elphaba's head cocks and she sits up, crossing her bony legs. The blonde girl is facing away from her, obviously not realizing she is there as the frilly nightdress slips from her body. Elphaba's eyebrows arch sky-high and she emits a small cough, which results in a scream from the blonde girl, who whirls around and seizes her sheets, pulling them up around her.

"Oh Lurline," the girl swears, "I forgot… I'm so sorry… how embarrassing… I don't suppose you… you could… um…"

Smirking, Elphaba stands and walks to the door. Turning around, she looks her preppy roommate straight in the eye. "Anything you want for breakfast?"

"Um… an orange would be nice." The girl daintily chews on her lower lip.

"All right." And the door is shut and the green girl is gone.


	26. Moon

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Not much to say… I don't think this is one of the better ones, but here it is anyway._

**RATED: K

* * *

**

**Momsy Said  
**045. Moon  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Sometime before they even left for the Emerald City, Galinda once said, "Momsy said to look at the moon whenever I feel lonely and know that she is looking at that same moon and thinking of me."

And it's times like these when Elphaba clings to these words.

She sits in a tunnel beneath the main tower of Kiamo Ko, looking out a small window at a huge, full moon. And somehow, she finds it very hard to believe that Glinda is looking at that moon at that instant and thinking about her at all. Does Glinda even care anymore? Did she slip back into the usual, self-centered ways of being a public figure?

Or was she changed?


	27. Purple

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I think this is one of my favorites._

**RATED: K

* * *

**

**Purple  
**016. Purple  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Purple  
By Galinda Upland  
Age 8  
Grade 5  
Gillikin School of Gifted Children  
For Miss Porff's Class

Purple is my favorite color  
It makes me want to sing  
Well, OK, no it's not  
My favorite color's pink  
Pink is my favorite color  
Because it's bright and happy  
It's not sad like gray or black  
Which both seem very sappy  
Pink brightens up anything  
Black or green or blue  
It even brightens up the brown  
And makes gray happy too  
But this poem is not about pink  
It's about the color purple  
But since nothing rhymes with that  
I wrote it about pink anyway


	28. When?

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Update two days in a row because I'm going on vacation and won't be updating again until Tuesday or Wednesday._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Magazines and Catalogs  
**079. When?  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

We sit together in the café, our eyes trained on the Ozmopolitans and the ball gown catalogs and the magazines that feature a certain Winkie prince in wet shirts and no shirts at all. We may be college girls, but that doesn't mean our interests have changed. We still know what comes first in life – boys and fashion. And boys.

Though three pairs of eyes stare at the beautiful pictures of Fiyero Tigular, our chattering mouths gossip loudly about Miss Galinda Upland.

"Since when does she blow off our parties to play study buddy with the green girl?" Milla asks, stirring her latté.

"Everything's changed since he arrived," Pfannee says, running a long finger along the shirtless inked version of Fiyero. "Something about her is different altogether… I can't put my finger on it."

"Who cares?" Shenshen says snottily. "It's her loss, isn't it? It's not _my_ problem if she decided she likes the green girl and Fiyero in clothes better than us and a naked Fiyero."

"Still," says Milla, "it doesn't seem fair."


	29. Storm

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I will be updating every day today through Thursday in order to catch up on the days I've lost on vacation. This one is based on the book..._

**RATED: T

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**

**Twister  
**070. Storm  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Oh, dear Unnamed God, save me from this impending disaster."

Nessarose's cherry lips formed prayers that were unheard over the screams of the storm. The Munchkinlanders had scurried into their houses as soon as the winds became unnaturally heavy, leaving her standing in the streets, alone. The table of awards had gone crashing to the ground, the assorted colors of ribbons blowing everywhere, the trophies snapped in two, the plaques scattered on the ground.

Nessarose struggled to stand, willing the enchanted shoes to help her. The storm was too strong even for Glinda's magic and the winds quickly knocked her over, sending her sprawling on the ground.

"I love the Unnamed God with all of my heart, with all my body, with all of my mind, with all of my soul, with all of my spirit, with all of my strength, with all of my…"

Nessarose trailed off at the sight of a crudely-built wooden house, gray and plain, spinning through the sky. It was barely visible in the center of the whirling vortex, but it was there none the less and it was lowering.

The winds were ceasing and the giant black clouds were fading, the dark funnel shrinking away; but the house was dangerously close and Nessarose somehow knew what was going to happen. She squeezed her eyes shut and her mouth moved faster than ever, praying faster than she had ever before:

"I love the Unnamed God with all of my heart, with all of my body, with all of my mind, with all of my soul, with all of my spirit, with all of my strength, with all of my–"

Nessarose was cut off as the house dropped on her fallen body, crushing her bones.


	30. Middles

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: And the promised second straight day of updates…_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Caught  
**002. Middles  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Caught in the middle of two worlds.

As soon as she knew the truth, she felt the cruel pull – the urge to find a way to the other world, to Dorothy's world. To her father's world.

What was the other world like? Elphaba's mental image of the other world was foggy, but she had a vague idea of everyone walking around carrying their own copy of the Grimmerie, pausing here and there to help someone out by casting a spell.

But then, what good does magic do if anyone can do it?

Elphaba loves Oz, but the other world is a clear and present danger, a second earth waiting to be explored.

And she is caught in the middle, never to be known by one world, hated by the other world. And neither will she ever be accepted by.


	31. Lovers

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: This is the last of the "every day updates." Next update will be on Saturday. I had to write this because I've wondered if there was some sort of spark between these two characters..._

**RATED: K+**

* * *

**So This Is Love?  
**023. Lovers  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

She is not quite sure what their relationship is.

At first, of course, it had been strictly business, very professional. A nod, a handshake, a small, polite smile.

But gradually it developed into a friendship. Well. She says that, but of course it's not true. Friendship came in little bursts one day and then bloomed suddenly. Something connected, something clicked, and suddenly it was there. He was her friend and she was his. A handshake, a smile, a wink, a hug.

And what is it now? Is it more? She likes to think so. Heat spreads through her body whenever she accidentally bumps his hand, starting at the place of contact and creeping quickly up her arm, her shoulder, her chest, her head, her legs, her feet, her toes. Is this past friendship? Is this something more like love? A wink, a hug, a tease, a kiss. A kiss. A long, passionate kiss.

She can't decide. She is so confused about her feelings for him.

She asks him, finally, what he feels toward her.

"You are a fantastic ally," he says.

And Madame Morrible decides now that she hates the Wizard of Oz.


	32. Ends

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Not one of my favorites, I don't think it's very original… but here it is anyway._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Terrorized Era  
**003. Ends  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The deaths of the witches signaled the end to what will eventually be known as the Terrorized Era, a chapter in the tale of the world of Oz during which the land was threatened by two sisters.

One, beautiful and handicapped, ruled in the East. She stripped Munchkins of their rights, and, according to the rumors, only so she could keep one Munchkin man with her. A Munchkin man that was cruelly deformed due to her heinous acts.

The second had a disgusting skin condition – green flesh, like giant leaves had been pasted all over her body. She resided in the West and she practically destroyed an entire troop of monkeys by turning them into mutants with her evil book of magic. She spread lies about Our Wizard and campaigned to have him dethroned.

Both were killed in separate incidents involving a young girl from the other world, parading around with the name Dorothy Gale.

Rumor has it that Glinda the Good, the second most highly praised woman in Ozian history (the first being Dorothy Gale) has been in contact with the witches since teenage years. Details have not yet been released, but Glinda is claiming that the Witch of the West was called "Elphaba" and her sister, the Eastern Witch, was named "Nessarose."

More than one doctor has diagnosed Glinda has being mentally insane, due to her claiming that these Wicked Witches could have possibly been good and that Our Wizard was the true villain.

We can only hope that the doctors get to the bottom of this and our Oz will return to the way it was..


	33. Winter

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Another Fiyero drabble at long last…This is one based on the book._

**RATED: T

* * *

**

**When I Died  
**061. Winter  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The snow was falling when I died.

It was all disturbingly surreal. The flag of the Gale Force was waving from the top of the building, so I knew they were in there. My mind jumped to an ugly conclusion – Elphaba was in there and they were killing her. Somehow I had completely forgotten everything, just thought Elphaba was up there, dying, being beaten to death or worse by the Gale Forcers.

I flew up the steps. The snow was blowing throughout the building from the opened and broken windows. Harsh, winter winds blustered through the entire place, biting bitterly at my bare skin.

"Halt." I hadn't even seen the soldier before he had spoken and was commanding me to get down on my hands knees. I demanded to know why; he demanded I obey. A whip to my calves brought me down into the desired position and before I knew it, soldiers were attacking me with whips and spears and clubs, beating me to death.

My body was left in the middle of the room, waiting in the winter air for Elphaba's return.


	34. Green

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So I tried calculating it... and if I update every other day continuously and make up for any I might miss, I should be done with this in June/July... depressing, slightly, that it will take that long, but also exciting, because it means I have something to keep me going that long._

**RATED: T

* * *

**

**The Color of Death  
**014. Green  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

His favorite color was green.

The sea was green. The grass was green. The trees were green. The earth was green. The City was green. The Elixir was green.

Emeralds were his favorite jewel. When he was married, he gave his wife a silver ring with a cluster of emeralds.

He never imagined he would rule an entire City of green.

He never imagined his own daughter would be born green.

He never imagined that the world would detest the color green because of him.

He never imagined he would be responsible for his own daughter's death.

Green was supposed to be the color of life, not the color of death.


	35. Passing

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So because ff.n wouldn't let me log in on Friday, tomorrow I'll be making up for that... so three straight days of drabbles coming up! Here goes the first:_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Passed  
**065. Passing  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

They passed each other in the hallway once in a while. They never stopped, though. They looked at each other in disgust out of their corner of their eyes: the blonde wrinkled her nose, the green pushed her glasses up on her nose, and they both hurried away.

They passed notes to each other in class. Never history, because the green was too busy paying attention in that class, and the blonde had quickly transferred to a different history class with a human teacher, because the mispronunciation of her name bugged her too much. But in Language Arts they passed notes, and in Mathematics they passed notes, and in Study of the Sciences they passed notes, and in Governmental History they passed notes.

The blonde passed the opportunity to join the green in the quest for what they both knew was right, but the green didn't let it stop her. It didn't bring her down that her best friend had turned her back on her.

They passed each other as they each paced back and forth in Kiamo Ko, just before the green passed on the blonde's suggestion to clear her name. And then the green passed away, melting into the ground. And passed on to another world.


	36. And

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So… I forgot to update yesterday. I'm sorry. I almost forgot to update again today. To make up for the missed make up for Saturday, I will be updating tomorrow. I promise. No, really!_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Assistant?  
**083. And  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Madame Morrible…

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Elphaba Thropp…

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and the Vizier Thropp…

It just didn't sound right. A grand title like that just shouldn't be followed by a second name. Sure, every great hero – or villain – had someone accompanying them. Fagin and the Artful Dodger. Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere. Romeo and Juliet. Tristan and Isolde. Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Robin Hood and his Merry Men.The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and…

No. It just didn't sound right. Oscar Diggs will always fly solo.

Ha. "Fly." How disgustingly ironic.


	37. Heart

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I remembered to update today… you should all be proud._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Heartless  
**047. Heart  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

My heart was stolen.

I swear to the Unnamed God, as I look in that mirror at my hideous, unnatural reflection, I can practically see it in my gray eyes. There is no soul there, no heart.

And it was all _their_ fault.

They tricked me. They set me up.

And Elphaba waved her arms, chanting some silly spell, trying to fix what was wrong. And all she ultimately did was more damage. That spell only deepened what was missing in my life. Somehow, trying to reduce a handicap only enhanced it.

We deserve each other, me and the girl in the mirror, that hideously deformed, beautiful face that looks back at me. How narcissistic.

Boq is not the heartless one. I am.


	38. Children

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: And the last installment of this set of every-day updates. Please continue to review, my goal is to reach 300 by the end of this._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Children  
**028. Children  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Madame Morrible could not stand little children.

That was part of why she became a university headmistress – she knew teaching was a gift she had. Her talent was encouraging talent. But little children were so clingy, so sticky, so needy. Yes, young adults were her best bet. Right when their talent is ready to flesh out, ready for them to spread and show the world.

Oh, she had trained plenty of young sorcerers and enchantresses. Madame Morrible had trained no less than three generations of Ozmas before the Wizard arrived – indeed, she was an ancient woman.

The thought of children made her shudder.

She hated children so much, that she made sure to stay out of the situation with the girl from the Other World. She let her kill the Witches and expose the Wizard, but made sure that she was never seen, never heard, never known.

For Madame Morrible is sly in that way.


	39. Insides

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: A nice bit of insight on Elphaba's relationship with Nessarose._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Ugly  
**004. Insides  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Her insides churned every time she looked in the mirror. She could only imagine how disgusting it must be to sit across from her at the dinner table.

She wondered how Nessarose, so striking, so tragic, so pale, so elegant, so beautiful, could stand to look her in the eye and _compliment_ her. True, it was seldom compliments that slipped out of Nessarose's lips, but occasionally there was the occasional, "Elphaba, I'm jealous of your intelligence," or "Elphaba, I know Father hates you for it, but your powers really are extraordinary."

And when they were young, the little one would cry in the night for Elphaba to come sleep in her bed with her when the storms were especially fierce.

How could Nessarose stand to be near someone so ugly? How did she not vomit every time an inch of that gross green skin was revealed?


	40. Blue

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Not much to say except… here it is… and please review!_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Glinda's Eyes  
**015. Blue  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Her first memory is of a haven of blue: She played hide-and-seek and peek-a-boo among the pale azure curtains, digging among the folds for little Shell. He would giggle himself senseless when she found him and she set upon him, tickling his belly and sides. He giggled until he screamed and then Frexspar would come and yank her off of him, and scold her, and send her to her room without supper.

Her favorite childhood memory was of blue: Lying in the emerald fields with armless Nessarose, watching the clouds form various silly shapes in the vast sky. They would spend hours out there, days, maybe weeks, just watching the ducks and boats and swirls in the heavens.

Her first sight of Fiyero was blue: Those cobalt diamonds, tattooing his arms and chest and face and neck, teasing her eyes.

And now, as she lies here dying on the floor, all she sees is blue: the faded checks of the girl's dress; the enormous atmosphere outside the window; the splash of water on the floor, reflecting the sky.

But most of all what she sees now are two blue circles in her mind's eye, framed by pale skin and luscious flaxen curls. And Glinda still smiles kindly at her, even as she dies. And Elphaba can't make up her mind if Glinda is trying to lift her spirits or taunt her.


	41. Outsides

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Please review, as always! Reviewing really does give me boosts of confidence and I always seem to write better when the reviews are coming in… so don't delay, review away!_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**The Eye of the Beholder  
**005. Outsides  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Everyone is so different.

There's Elphaba, with her strange skin condition. But her emerald flesh isn't the only thing that physically sets her apart: Elphaba has beautiful hair, truly beautiful hair, long and wavy and blue-black. She takes such care of that hair, it feels like silk, like water cascading from her scalp. And those eyes, those green orbs flecked with bits of brown, so dramatic, so startling.

There's Nessarose, tragically stunning, with hair not as lovely as Elphaba's, but a chocolate brown color, straight and shining. Blood red lips, natural and unpainted, and warm, brown eyes speckled with gold. And of course that feature which makes Nessarose stand out the most, her lack of arms. Yet despite the unbalance this fact of missing limbs creates, she still is so graceful in the way she smiles, the way she blinks, the way she arches one eyebrow.

There's Fiyero, his face and chest and arms patterned in blue diamonds. He has thick, wavy hair that falls past his shoulders, a golden-brown color, and dark, heavily tanned skin. His eyes are a brilliant blue, not watery like Galinda's, but a richer, cobalt-blue.

There's Boq, short in stature as is the way of a stereotypical Munchkinlander. The odd thing is, though there are other Munchkinlanders at Shiz, Boq is the shortest of them all. He tosses a mane of golden curls, his only asset when it comes to showing off, for his eyes are a rather dull gray color, boring and dry.

There's Galinda, pale curls falling to the small of her back, cold blue eyes searching for answers, painted pink lips nearly always set in a pout, a tiny gap showing between her two front teeth. But Galinda feels like she cannot stand out like her friends; all Gillikinese folk are famous for their flaxen hair, the gap between their two front teeth, their untainted beauty. But somehow, Galinda's beauty swallows her into the crowd even more than Boq's plainness or Fiyero's darkness or Elphaba's freakiness or Nessarose's lack of arms. Perhaps because there are more Gillikinese students at Shiz than any other country (for Shiz is in Gillikin), Glinda feels inferior, feels left out, feels more boring than even Boq.

But then Elphaba assures her that looks are not always what matters most; Nessarose is beautiful like none other, but she is so heavily sunk into her religion that she is cold and aloof when it comes to socializing.

"The eye of the beholder," Elphaba says wisely. When Galinda asks what it means, Elphaba shakes her head and explains that it's a quote from some great man of the Other World. "The point is," she explains, "there's more to a person than meets the eye."


	42. Not Enough

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry I missed yesterday's post… there will be a two-day-in-a-row posting instead…Furthermore, this is book-inspired and you need to be aware that it's a very hard T rating._

**RATED: HARD T!

* * *

**

**So Good  
**034. Not Enough  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

She really and truly couldn't get enough.

She had been a good girl… once… a long, long time ago. She was raised in a respectable Munchkinlander home, raised as the future heiress to the Thropp Eminence. Perhaps that was part of the problem… raised as such a goody two-shoes that she was bound to stray off the strict path of obedience sooner or later…

It was the stable boy who had given her her first taste of a man. She had just turned fourteen and he was seventeen, practically a man. She had just been discovering what happened when Mother and Father's door closed when he approached her – and she _loved_ it. But she knew from the way the cook looked at her when she told her what had been going on by the creek behind the barn that what she and the stable boy had been wrong.

She tried to remain on the straight path, but after that first taste found it so hard – after the stable boy it was the shepherd, then the dining manservant, then her father's valet, and before long she was bedding outside of the Thropp house.

She had married Frexspar in hope that he would keep her on the right path, being as he was a priest. And it worked, for a while at least. He kept her satisfied but after a while she got bored… with Frexspar it was the same every time and she soon began taking advantage of the mission trips Frex took… inviting traveling men into the house, ensuring that Nanny was asleep in her rocking chair in the kitchen, drool dripping down her chin, and pulling the men into the bedroom.

After Elphaba had been born green, she had vowed that she would stop. She didn't want Frex knowing what was going on while he was out and he was so disgusted by the emerald child that she didn't want to risk being disowned because of her lack of faithfulness.

But Turtle Heart had been so _good_ at it. His kisses were more enticing, more thrilling, more persuading than even those first nips from her father's stable boy. And before long, she was pregnant again, this time with Nessarose.

After Nessarose was born armless, however, she vowed to never sleep with another man again.

And she didn't.

She remained faithful to Frex and, finally, found herself impregnated with his child, Shell.

And she didn't lose faithfulness after Shell's birth.

Because she was _dead._


	43. Bugs

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I missed yesterday because ff.n wouldn't let me upload any documents for some reason... so there should be a two-day-in-a-row update now (today and tomorrow) provided ff.n doesn't decide to be stupid and I don't decide to forget.A bit of explanation on the prompt: the last five of the prompts (numbers 096, 097, 098, 099, and 100) are described as "Writer's Choice." This is one of those prompts, suggested by **ephemereal** a.k.a. **Michelle**._

**RATED: K

* * *

**

**Squish  
**096. Bugs  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Elphaba sticks out her green thumb and presses down hard on an especially fat black bug. Little Nessie squeals in absolute delight, her eyebrows raised high and her brown eyes glowing with positive glee.

Elphaba's eyes narrow toward Nessie, who is rocking back and forth on her bottom, trying to keep her balance without arms. "Again!" Nessie cries. "Effie squash bug again!" Without losing eye contact with her little sister, Elphaba makes her palm flat and presses down hard on the dead bug, winning another shriek of pleasure from Nessie. Elphaba morbidly twists her hand on the bug's remains, grinding it into the ground. Nessie's eyes widen and her smirk spreads.

Elphaba lifts her palm and examines the bug's black insides smeared across her hand. She looks at Nessie and grins, displaying wickedly sharp teeth. "Horrors," she whispers and reaches out to wipe the bug guts on Nessarose's face.


	44. Dark

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Right so… Over the past few days I've been busy with The Sound of Music auditions (which I didn't get into… so you can all review and comfort me ;-) ), so I did indeed miss another day… which means a joyous three-day-in-a-row update, provided I remember…Review and remind me! ;-)_

**RATED: T

* * *

**

**Contact  
**074. Dark  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

He shuts the door with a soft _click_ and pauses at the door, letting his eyes adjust to the heavy darkness. Moonlight falls in through the glass-paned roof, illuminating the bed and casting shadows that reveal her form, huddled beneath a sheet. He stumbles quickly across the room, already tugging at the buttons of his own shirt. He sits on the bed as he sheds the garment and Elphaba sits up, her dark hair falling away from her face, spilling like water over her shoulders and down her back. She holds the sheet up over her bare chest. "Eager, are we?" He grins sheepishly and she gives a small smirk; in the pale light, he can hardly tell that she is green.

She pushes the sheet away and slips an arm around his waist. She presses a long, thin finger to one of the blue diamonds on his chest and leans down to kiss it.

He shudders as her cold hands run over his dark skin; their arms snake around each other, pulling close.

The darkness around them masks them, hanging around them, thick and heavy. As they lay together hours later, soaked with hot sweat and breathing heavily, Fiyero's mind wanders back to the Vinkus, where Sarima is lying in her bed, alone. And he knows that he should feel guilty.

_But_, he darkly thinks to himself just before the darkness of sleep encases him, _I don't._


	45. Thunder

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I remembered to update! Review and make sure I update all three days so I don't have to make it up again... ;-)_

**RATED: K

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**

**_Pitter, Patter_  
**069. Thunder  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The sky rumbles with the threatening rain and as a single drop stings her hand like acid she begins to run for cover, pulling her hood over her head and tightening the cloak around her. She sprints through the marshy Quadling forest, headed for the abandoned Bear cave.

She throws herself under the stony ceiling just as the rain begins to pour down in sheets, coating the forest with a glossy appearance from the wet. She shudders, happy she made it out of the burning water.

She closes her eyes and listens to the rolling thunder, pressing pale green fingers to pale green eyelids; she brushes away a lock of hair that has escaped from her braid.

"_Pitter, patter,"_ whispers the rain above her.

"Shut up!" young Elphaba shouts back.


	46. She

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I remembered again! Not one of my favorites, but here it is anyway…_

**RATED: K+**

**

* * *

**

**Life  
**085. She  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

She helped me out of my shell.

Not that my actual physical shell was bad; indeed, I had been featured shirtless on the Ozmopolitan Magazine fourteen and a half times. (Don't ask about the half.)

But she helped me realize that being physically flawless isn't everything – without the mental, emotional, and social aspects of life, what good is a person?

Galinda only encouraged my view of life as being completely and totally physical; but the moment Elphaba stepped in, the moment our hands touched on the cage of that poor Lion cub, I knew that there must be much, much more than the narrow slit through which I saw life.


	47. Straw

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: OK, so, I missed all last week because it was tech week for my school's production of Romeo and Juliet, in which I was Romeo, so forgive me. I also hope you'll forgive that I don't plan to do more than 1 day in a row to make up for these, given that I missed so many. I'll just extend the end date (whenever that may be) by a week. This is the second of the _"Writer's Choice" _prompts, given again by _**ephemereal **_a.k.a _**Michelle**_. I hope it's rather clear who this is talking about..._

**RATED: T

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**

**First and Last  
**097. Straw  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

His first time had been in the straw.

It had happened when he was fourteen, back when he was living with his family in Kiamo Ko, just before photographers from the Ozmopolitan discovered him and his "masculine beautification."

The milkmaid had brushed past him on one hot summer's day and gave his rear a playful squeeze – not an hour later they were tumbling in the barn, straw in their hair, their hands exploring smooth, exposed flesh. They lied naked in the loft for hours, entwined in each other's arms, the hot sun beating down on them.

And now here he is again, returned to that time of straw, though now he finds it is quite different.

* * *

_Author's Note: I don't usually do end notes for these, but I'd like to ask that everyone who reads this review... I'd like to do a kind of "booster chapter" with this - the majority of you can go back to your turtled lives of not reviewing after this, but I just ask that you press the button and just leave a "Good job, I liked this one" or something like that. It only takes a minute, and it's just this once that I'm going to beg. Thanks so much!_


	48. Brown

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews on the last one. If you all want to keep reviewing now, of course, it's more than welcome:-D Also, as I have 3 more "Writer's Choice" prompts left, I was wondering if you all had any ideas, and if so, please share them! Credit will be given. Thanks much! Oh, and this is novel-based._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Color  
**017. Brown  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

It seemed as though every color in Elphaba's world was symbolic.

Red for the Quadlings, for the marshes where Elphaba had grown up, for the shoes on her dead sister's feet. Blue for the Munchkins, for her birth land, for the Shiz University uniforms, for the tattoos on Fiyero's body. Green for her skin, for the City, for the taunting elixir bottle. Yellow for Glinda's hair, for the Vinkus. Purple for Gillikin. Pink for Glinda. Black for her cape, for her cloak, for her very soul. White for the purity shown in Glinda, in Nessarose, in Fiyero.

But brown?

She supposed brown could be attributed to her eyes, brown orbs flecked with green, but still that did not seem enough.

Brown represents the mud splattered on her as the Shiz students rush by. Brown represents the laughing eyes of so many students, mixed in with blue and hazel and green. Brown represents the endless plains of the Vinkus. Brown represents Nessarose's beauty through her deep, solid eyes and curling hair.

Brown represents the revelation of wood beneath the peeling, white paint on the house that killed her sister.


	49. Black

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: This is novel-based. Please continue to review! _:-)

**RATED: K+

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**

**Mourning  
**018. Black  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda wore black the day Elphaba died.

All of Oz celebrated; no one knew details, just that somehow the alien girl with the Eminent Thropp's shoes had murdered the dangerous Wicked Witch of the West. All that was left of the green enigma was a huddle of black garments, including her infamous pointed hat.

The rest of Oz dressed in the vibrant colors of their native countries; cobalt cloaks and violet hats and yellow breeches and scarlet blouses and emerald shoes flooded the streets all across the world; meanwhile, Glinda alone sat, huddled in a corner of her bedroom in Chuffrey Mansion, dressed in a gown of black and dabbing delicately at the corners of her eyes with a kerchief Elphaba had given her years ago.

She saw it very fitting to wear black; not only was it appropriate to wear the color of mourning on the day of death of your best friend – for that was truly what Elphaba was, if not now then back in the days of Shiz, for she had not seen Elphaba since that day at Nessarose's funeral – but she also saw it as a tribute to Elphaba. Rebellious Elphie. When the world went left, Elphaba went right. When the world agreed, Elphaba contradicted. When the world mourned, Elphaba celebrated.

When the world celebrated, Glinda mourned.


	50. Star

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry I missed yesterday, I had a voice recital... plus April and May got me used to updating on the even-numbered days and now the 31st day of May has thrown me off and I have to update on odd days now... but I think, just to make it easier on myself, I'll go back to updating on even days now... just because it's easier for me to remember... _:-D _Please review! _:-)

_**Also - **This is number 50! I'm half-way there! So please review to help me celebrate! _:-D

**RATED: K+

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**

**My Strongest Suit  
**046. Star  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"The Star of Oz," the Ozmopolitan had hailed, among other praises.

Really, Glinda was hardly good for anything except setting fashion trends. Clothing was her forte, and everyone knew it – from elegantical ball gowns to every-day outfits, Glinda the Good's good was set on helping people know how to dress. Costumes in every color adorned her, every fabric (silk, satin, and velvet), every pattern (spot, stripe, and plaid), every style (save Elphaba's "grunge" look).

Hair swept back in a regal bun, with delicate blonde curly-cues pulled out selectively to frame her round face; eyes wide and bright, lined flawlessly and ornamented by eye shadow, with brows arching perfectly; perfectly puckered lips, painted a pretty pink.

Glittering jewels set at her throat, wrapped round her wrist, swaying from her ears, encircling her fingers.

"The Star of Oz," the Ozmopolitan claimed.

Yet, for some reason, despite the fact that she shone so brightly with her tasteful sense of style… Glinda knows something is missing…

And she knows deep down that that something is creepy and green and cloaked in a grungy black cape, but she stubbornly refuses to admit it.


	51. Days

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Please review! _:-)

**RATED: K+

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**

**Dear Diary  
**007. Days  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

_November 19th, 1354_

_Dear Diary,_

_I have vowed to keep a journal for my father, and thus far I have done a poor job of keeping track of the events of university life. I suspect he will be reviewing them upon my return so that he may keep up on where I am, how my standings remain, how my opinions vary, and so forth. He wants to keep an eye on his little girl, or so I guess. I suppose I, being the good daughter, should remain faithful to my father._

_Days at Shiz are always either long or short, never a healthy medium. Sometimes time seems to drag, the second hand of each tick tock letting itself linger as much as possible before moving, the minute hand winding its way, slowly and lazily, round the face of the clock. Listen to me, so poetic in handwriting, so formal and elegant. I suppose I am rather formal and elegant in person, but never so poetic. No, Elphaba is the sister who is generally gifted in speaking out._

_But anyway, back to the days at Shiz. In contrast to these slow, hot Gillikin days, there are always the days that seem to fly by faster than one can blink. These are usually the days that start out comfortably – anything uncomfortable must drag by, it is the natural way of things._

_I have been rooming with the headmistress, which has been quite an experience. She's very fussy about her fashion, quite the opposite of sister mine, and has an enormous vanity that she spends more time in front of than is necessary. Ah well, it is not my place to say how much make-up the Madame should and should not wear._

_I honestly expected life to be a bit difficult without Elphaba at my side, ready to help me and aid me when I need it, but I have adjusted quite well. I surprised myself a bit, honestly._

_The Madame is entering, dairy, and so here I must leave you. Or should I say that I must leave my father? Ah well, if he is spying on me by way of this journal he shall know I know when he reads this, will he not? Indeed._

_Always,_

_Nessarose_


	52. Red

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I know, I know, I missed a day, I'm sorry. I was really busy yesterday. But I'll be doing 2 days in a row to make up for it (today and tomorrow)._

**RATED: K+

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**

**Ruby  
**011. Red  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Frex enters the hut, his hands clasped behind his back; his linen shirt is clinging to his chest from all the sweat that drips, but he seems to not care. There is a twinkle in his eye that slightly discomforts Melena. Stepping further out of reach of the Quadling sun's rays and into the shade of the grass hut, Frex makes his way slowly to the armless baby wiggling and rolling on the ground.

"Nessie," he says playfully, reaching out a hand to stop his squirming daughter from moving. "Look what I've brought you." His hand comes from behind his back, holding out a brilliant red ruby that glitters in the light let in from the doorway.

Melena lets out a gasp and drops quickly to her knees to examine the jewel. "Frex!" she exclaims. "We can buy so much with this!"

But Frex's eyes are hard. "It's a toy for Nessarose, not a buying tool."

"Frex! Don't be so ridiculous, a ruby is not a _toy._"

"You forget we're in Quadling, darling," Frex says, superiority ringing through his words. "Rubies mean nothing where we are." Melena lets out a "harrumph" of defeat, but her eyes still don't leave the glowing red jewel; Nessarose has managed to tip herself onto her stomach and his now licking the pretty crimson gem.

Elphaba sits in a corner, her fingers firmly clutching a green glass sphere, eyes wide, teeth gnashing, lips whispering, "Horrors horrors horrors…"


	53. It

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: This is the companion to _Red _(the last one). This is the third of the Writer's Choice prompts, _**It.**

**RATED: K+

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**

**It  
**098. It  
_by Fiyero Oberon  
_**companion to **011. Red

"What did you get Elphaba?"

Frex looks up at Melena; he is kneeling on the floor beside the armless Nessie, dangling the ruby above her so the sun catches it and throws small drops of blood red all over the little girl. She gurgles and he raises his eyebrows. "What?"

Melena is exasperated; she has never cared for the green child either, but she knows better than to give Nessarose a gift and not Elphaba. "You didn't get something for her, did you?"

"It doesn't need anything."

"Don't call her an 'it'!" Melena slaps Frex as she sweeps out of the house, looking for a white stone or something for Elphaba.

"You don't like _it_ either!" Frex calls after his wife.

Elphaba remains in her corner, her hands still grasping the green glass sphere, eyes wide, teeth gnashing, lips whispering, "Horrors horrors horrors…"


	54. Water

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Well, hopefully it's somewhat obvious what's going on in this one… I leave for New York City early tomorrow morning and will, in fact, be seeing _**Wicked**_ tomorrow evening… I am set to return on Sunday, but I seriously doubt there will be much writing because I will be exhausted from an overnight bus trip…So I will hopefully be back with more on Monday! 'Til then!_

**RATED: K+

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**

**Rust  
**051. Water  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Boq looks at the tree; it's not especially thick, with black-brown bark and void of any leaves. His gaze slides down to the axe in his hand, gleaming silver blade and long, metallic handle. His mind briefly wonders what that blade edge would look like decorated with dark red blood, dripping slowly, _drip, drop, drap…_

Without another thought, Boq raises the axe high in the air and swings it, sloping downwards, making a perfect chop in the tree's slender trunk. Thunder rumbles above his head, but Boq doesn't care; he wiggles the axe out of the tree, raises it, and strikes the trunk again.

The rain begins to fall, just a smattering of sprinkles, _drip, drop, drap… _

Boq raises and strikes again, shaking the tree. The rain falls harder and Boq feels slightly weaker, but raises his axe once more…

The rain begins to pelt the earth suddenly, coming down in thunderous sheets. The wind blows fiercely, but Boq continues to chop at the tree…

Finally, as he brings the axe downwards once more, Boq's joints fail. Struggling to move his arms, Boq realizes he cannot even move his jaw. His feet feel rooted to their spot in the earth. The rain continues, water rolling down off his tin nose, down the hard cheeks, bouncing off his metal body… but Boq does not move.


	55. Years

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Well, _**Wicked**_ is as amazing as ever. If you get the chance to see it with Kate Reinders and Eden Espinosa, I recommend it. Eden is definitely my favorite Elphaba and Kate is incredible! Derrick Williams needs to leave the show though… but anyway, I'm back from NYC and here's the next drabble!_

**RATED: K+

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**

**Memories  
**010. Years  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda sits primly on the edge of the faded pink brocade of the parlor sofa, the thick book in her hands. Milla and Boq are on either side of her, sipping awkwardly at their iced tea, clearly unused to the formality of the Chuffrey castle. "Well, let's see," Glinda says, taking a sip from her cup and setting it back down on its painted saucer.

Opening the cover, Glinda is greeted by a picture of eleven college students sitting at a long table at a restaurant, most of them smiling.

"Oh, here we are at that popular restaurant at Shiz. I can never remember what the name of it was. Look at this, Milla, you're wearing that green dress! I remember you wouldn't wear because of – yes, well, never mind then…" Glinda's voice had gone unnaturally high and she quickly flipped the page.

"Look, here I am with Avaric… I remember that dress. Nessarose always loved that one, but I thought it was rather plain. She always did have an eye for the plain things, didn't she? Perhaps it was because she felt anything to extravagant would offend the Unnamed God?"

"Oh, and look, here are Crope and Tibbett… they were good friends weren't they?" Boq choked on his iced tea and Glinda raised her eyebrows. "All right, then, I see your point."

"Here I am again, with Nessarose, and…" Glinda stops off again and Boq looks curiously over her shoulder.

"The Witch," Milla supplies.

Glinda's hand slip and the cup shatters on the floor.

"My," she whispers, "things have changed since then, haven't they?"


	56. Halloween

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update...ff.n wouldn't let me upload any documents forsome reason._ _Updates may be slightly inconsistent for the rest of June and the beginning of July because I'm playing Judas in Godspell and rehearsals are jam-packed… four hours a day usually. So I'm playing it by ear and hopefully it'll work out. This is a novel-based drabble… keep in mind I haven't read Son of a Witch, so if it's out of context to the point of ridiculousness, I beg forgiveness. This is also another Writer's Choice prompts, _**Halloween.**

**RATED: K+

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**

**Hallow's Eve  
**099. Halloween  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"What's the date today?" the little girl asks, her rich voice echoing in the open sky.

Liir's mind searches quickly, trying to remember the date. He soon comes to the realization that in Kiamo Ko time plays practically no role in their lives except to effect the whether and to tell when they sleep and when they wake again. "November thirty-first," he says, choosing a date at random.

Dorothy is quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally she says, "There is no November thirty-first."

Liir feels like an idiot for a moment, like the bottom of his stomach dropped out, but he recovers quickly: "I meant October."

Dorothy suddenly smiles slightly and her silver shoes suddenly seem to send a spring to her step. "That means today is Halloween!"

"Hallowhat?" the straw man asks, startling Liir; he had forgotten that the Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, and the enormous Lion were still with them.

"Halloween," Dorothy says. "Don't tell me you don't know what Halloween is!"

"Sorry," the Scarecrow says apologetically. "I've never heard of Halloweeks."

"I suppose you wouldn't have," says Dorothy, her voice thick with disappointment. "You've lived on a pole your whole life, and your life hasn't exactly been very long."

"I've never heard of it either," the Tin Woodman chimed in.

"Nor I," says the Lion.

"Oh," Dorothy says. Her mouth has gone into a thin line and her brow has furrowed, showing her dissatisfaction.

"Well, I've heard of it!" Liir lies, trying to make Dorothy cheer up. "Hallowends is my favorite part of the year." He crosses his fingers behind his back, praying that Halloween is indeed part of the year.

"It's Hallow_een_," Dorothy says, making Liir feel like a fool again. "Everyone dresses up as things and goes out and we get free candy from people."

"Dress up?" the metal man asks. "What do you dress up as?"

"Oh, lots of things!" Dorothy says happily and Liir suddenly feels happy too. "Clowns and werewolves and vampires and ghosts and…" – she casts a look towards Liir – "…witches…"


	57. Rain

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Some lovely Bolinda for you all. I've always loved this couple, even more than Fiyero and Elphaba, for some reason unknown. _**Godspell**_ opens tomorrow… wish me luck/leg breakings! This is written with the novel in mind, but I suppose it doesn't really matter either way._

**RATED: K+

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**

**Watercolors  
**066. Rain  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Galinda lets out a squeal of horror when the rain begins to fall – it is a sudden rain, without even a sprinkling to forewarn its coming. It comes abruptly, as though something in the sky randomly punctured and let forth its burdens in the form of precipitation.

The watercolors on the canvas wipe off almost immediately, spilling off the canvas and onto Galinda's white skirt, decorating it with a chaotic mess of green and blue and pink and brown and yellow. The painting of the park is transferred to a blur of color on the dress, and Galinda bursts into tears – not only is her artwork ruined, but her skirt as well.

Boq, watching from behind a tree, brushes the wet hair out of his face and looks at Glinda with her ruined skirt – and something in him decides he likes the messy, colorful skirt better.


	58. Hours

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Slight spoilers in this one. (Not that I haven't had spoilers before…)_

**RATED: K+

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**

**Waiting  
**006. Hours  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Hours and hours and hours and hours.

Or has it been days?

Or has it been minutes?

Elphaba can't tell. The room beneath the tower room hasn't any windows and her sleeping patterns have been so irregular that they are nothing to count by. She doesn't know if the food disappeared all at once or if she's been eating it over the course of a month.

Her mind fears the worst – Fiyero has been caught, burned at the stake trying to save the Wicked Witch. Her heart, however, knows that Fiyero would have found some way to send word to Elphaba, to warn her to flee before the Ozians realize she is alive. But how would he send word? Even the monkeys don't know she is hidden away in the tower room…

She crawls in a corner of the dark room, ignoring the way her stomach feels as though it's slowly eating at her own body… She closes her eyes and hums to herself the lullaby her father used to sing to Nessarose… She waits for Fiyero, waits for hours and hours and hours and hours…

Until, finally, there is a knock and a voice, a husky voice that brings a rush of excitement and relief through Elphaba's entire body:

"It worked!"


	59. Touch

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Saw the tour on Monday…So amazing. Sebastian is a really good Fiyero._

**RATED: K+

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**

**Sudden Silence  
**038. Touch  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Boq's grip on the handles of Nessarose's chair tightens as he sees Fiyero bend and Miss Galinda ascend to her tiptoes and their lips meet in a kiss. Nessarose, following his gaze, lets out a girlish "Awwww" and wheels her way toward the refreshment table. Boq follows her, physically, but mentally his mind is still on Miss Galinda.

"Uh, Nessa?" Nessarose turns to face him, a beaming smile on her face. Boq's face flickers a small, nervous smile and chews his lower lip as he continues. "I was… uh… wondering if you would mind if I… if I had a dance with Miss Galinda?"

Nessa's face fell and Boq's heart sunk with it. "Oh… I… oh, yes, of course… of course you want to dance, I… yes, I understand… go on, then." She turns quickly, busying herself with the punch.

"Oh… oh, I didn't mean that you… never mind." Boq shoved his hands in his pockets, and set his eyes determinedly on Nessarose and tried to put his mind somewhere else besides Miss Galinda.


	60. Food

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Novel-based._

**RATED: K+

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**

**The Best Part  
**059. Food  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda munches delicately on a cucumber sandwich, focusing her senses on its watery taste and smell, focusing her senses away from Elphaba.

The funeral is miniature; hardly anyone is there. A crooked old woman with wrinkled, leathery skin sways in a rocking chair in a corner, and Glinda recognizes her as Nanny. Boq and Milla enter the small room as Glinda takes a bite out of a cheese puff.

Elphaba's father and brother didn't even decide to show up, yet a familiar man in a white lab coat and spectacles seems to have appeared to show his mourning – or, perhaps, the Wizard has come to show his celebration for the extermination of his enemy. Glinda takes a small cup of lemonade and downs it.

She is surprised to see Avaric crossing the room, a horrified but pretty young woman's arm hooked in his, and he begins conversing with Boq and Milla. Glinda pops several lemon drops in her mouth, letting them melt away.

A few other people dot the room, and Glinda supposes they are those rebellions throughout Oz who supported and encouraged the terrorism of the Wicked Witch of the West. Glinda eats another cheese puff and gulps down another lemonade.

A plain coffin sits in the center of the room, but nobody dares open it. The Witch's body was found mangled, with an appearance of being eaten away as though by some sort of acid – Dorothy claimed it was just rainwater, but no one really knew what to believe. Glinda sucked on a peppermint.

No one says anything. The funeral of a Witch is a boring one, a silent one, a dull one.

And Glinda realizes sadly that the food is the best part of Elphaba's funeral.


	61. Independence

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: _**Godspell**_ has ended so I should be going back to regular updates again._

**RATED: K+

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**

**Defy  
**094. Independence  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Elphaba lets out a high-pitched, electrifying cackle and looks up; the ceiling is a green-tinted glass, easily shattered as Elphaba rockets upwards on the broom, curling herself together around the handle and bracing for the collision…

The glass explodes, and Elphaba feels a release of tension as she flies through the darkening sky, headed westward toward the dipping red sun. The cloak Glinda wrapped around her shoulders whips freely in the wind and Elphaba's hair tangles itself in the current of air.

The Wizard's palace and, eventually, the City shrink as Elphaba flies away, Glinda's cries of good fortune still ringing in her ears… "I hope you're happy!"

And as Elphaba flies, her mind racing to think of what she can do now to help the Animals, she finds that she really and truly feels ready. She is satisfied with her act of rebellion towards the Wizard and senses a tone of preparation to face what is ahead of her.

And yes, deep down, despite the confusion and frustration with the Wizard, Elphaba is happy with her decision.


	62. Sunset

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Our internet was down for a few days because of thunder storms we're getting, which is why I haven't updated. This one doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but I rather like it…_

**RATED: K+

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**

**Cloak  
**032. Sunset  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The sun burns a brilliant red as it sets in the west, farther west than they are even now. Nor sits on the top of the highest Kiamo Ko tower, Auntie Witch's stolen cape wrapped around her.

The door in the middle of the tower lays open, ensuring Nor that she will be able to get back into the castle. Looking down, she sees the Arjiki men, working at something within the lake. Each man is stripped to the waist despite the freezing winds that blast their ways through the village. Nor shivers now and pulls the Witch's cloak tighter around her shoulders.

Nor doesn't know what makes her decide to do it, but before she can stop to think about it she has thrown the cloak over the top of the tower, watching the wind catch it and carry it to the ground. She watches it wrinkle and unfold in the heavy breeze, rumple, smoothen, fold, stretch…

The sun dips its way beneath the horizon, darkening the sky and Nor ducks down into the castle through the trapdoor, praying she finds the cloak before Manek or Irji or, worse, Auntie Witch…


	63. Spring

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Yay for more Bolinda. Don't forget to review!_

**RATED: K+

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**

**This Kiss  
**062. Spring  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda strolls through the gardens, her hand resting in the crook of Boq's arm.

"I honestly am glad to get away from there," she whispers to him. "Funerals are such a bore as it is, and I can't imagine who decided it would be fitting to throw a ball following the funeral." They walk beneath an archway of greenery decorated with blooming blue roses. "It's sad, though, it really is… Who would have thought… horrible way to go, really very horrible, don't you agree?"

"Yes, yes… truly horrible, drowning. How old was he, anyway?"

"Avaric? Well, he was in your year in university, wasn't he, so he would be closest to your age." Trees filled heavy with pink blossoms stand on the left side of the garden path, and Glinda is momentarily distracted by them. "Spring was always my favorite season," she says. "The flowers are just so tasteful."

"Yes." Boq and Glinda make eye contact, but it doesn't last long. While it's there though, Glinda feels something in the pit of her stomach bubble. He is considerably shorter than she, and married. Married to Milla, no less, and surely quite happy with her.

"How fair you and Miss Milla? You have children, no doubt?"

"Seven," Boq says, nodding, and the bubbling in Glinda seems to fade significantly.

"I see."

There is a long pause before Boq stops walking, standing on the stone path amid tall bushes of yellow and white blossoms. "Spring in the season of renewal, of new life, of resurrection and cleansing," he says, "but this spring I feel as though I am returning to times past, turning back the clocks to the time when I still loved you. I never stopped, really. Some bit of me has always loved you and, I suppose, always will. And I don't suppose that you would, just once, grant me a bit of kiss?"

And no sooner has Boq completed his speech than Glinda's cherry-red lips are on his.


	64. Lunch

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Some more Bolinda. Please review!_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Eyes Meet  
**057. Lunch  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Elphaba plops down on the blanket and begins digging through the picnic basket while Galinda elegantly lowers herself to the ground and Boq, staring at the blonde, manages to sit down smoothly. She pulls out sandwiches and passes them around, and celery sticks, and fruit speared with toothpicks.

Elphaba munches down on a celery stick, watching the silent interaction between Galinda and Boq – Galinda looks up at Boq, who looks quickly away, and when Boq dares to look again, Galinda is suddenly interested in a loose thread in her skirt.

Again, Galinda, munching delicately on a sandwich, looks up at Boq and he interests himself in looking through the basket for napkins.

"Oh, would you two just make this easy and look at each other?"

And two sets of blue eyes meet, and Galinda and Boq are both blushing brilliantly pink.


	65. Sight

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I know, I waited a little long to update… I'm not feeling the inspiration lately. Reviews may inspire me more, though._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Squint  
**040. Sight  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda lies on her frilly bed on her stomach, kicking her legs in the air and popping her excessive wad of bubble gum loudly. She tosses her silky hair, and moves her blue-eyed gaze in Elphaba's direction. "I'm bored."

Elphaba lowers the book she has been reading, looking at Glinda incredulously over her glasses. "Are you _talking _to me?"

"Yes." Glinda continues to stare at Elphaba, even as the green girl goes back to reading her book. Glinda cocks her head slightly and squints. "You know… if you sit in the moonlight, and if you squint a little, and focus mainly on you're hair, and try to forget that you're skin is green, you're actually very pretty."

Elphaba's eyebrows skyrocket and she looks as though she cannot decide if she should be flattered or offended.


	66. Sunrise

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Not my favorite, as happens more often than I wish it would, but oh well. It's some slight Bolinda (although it's a bit one-sided)._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Genuinely Superficial  
**031. Sunrise  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"What are you doing up so early?"

Galinda looks over her shoulder to find Boq making his way towards her over the green grass. "I couldn't sleep," she says. "I haven't slept all night."

"Me neither." Boq stoops and sits down beside her, watching the sun rise in the east. "Munchkinland is that way," he says, almost dreamily. "I miss it… a lot. Working in the fields, I miss the animals and the fresh smell of country air… Shiz doesn't have that smell."

"Country air has its own smell?" she asks.

"Oh, of course! It's a beautiful smell, so much clearer than the awful stench of the Emerald City or –"

"Oh, the Emerald City!" Galinda squeals. "You've been there?"

"Yes," he says, slightly bitterly.

"I've always wanted to see the Emerald City," sighs Galinda. "Is it beautiful?"

"Yes," he says.

"I'm going there as soon as I graduate," she announces.

And Boq realizes that sometimes Galinda really is genuinely superficial.


	67. Choices

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Glinda reminisces…some slight spoilers here, I suppose…_

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Not Defying  
**086. Choices  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda helps Chistery pull away the curtain and gazes sadly at Elphaba's pointed hat, the only bit that remains.

_This is all _her_ fault… _all_ her fault… If she hadn't made the stupid decision back at the Emerald City all those years ago… if she had just gone with Elphaba, everything would be different now. It would have been two on two, Elphaba and Glinda versus the Wizard and Morrible, instead of one on three… Fiyero could have joined them, Nessarose maybe too. They could have found Dillamond, everything would have been different…_

Chistery hands Glinda a small green bottle.

_But she made one stupid decision, one brainless choice…_

Glinda wraps her hand around the flask, holds it to her chest, and cries.


	68. Birth

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I'd just like to take a moment to advertise my fic _**Resistance**. _I have a bunch of reviewers for this and I do think many of you would enjoy it… It's novel-based and centers on the question, "What if Elphaba had successfully assassinated Madame Morrible on Lurlinemas?" That is all._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Horrors  
**029. Birth  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Fabala, come in here," croaked Nanny.

Elphaba had toddled into the room in bare feet, clutching the hem of her shift. Nanny stooped to pick up the green child and hold her on her hip. "Fabala, this is your new sister, Nessarose." She turned so Elphaba could face Frexspar, who held little Nessarose. The child was scrawny and pale, with a cute button nose, wide brown eyes, and curly-cues of brown hair. The new baby was asleep, but Elphaba reached out to touch the shoulder space where there should have been an arm.

"Horrors," said little Elphaba, pointing at her dead mother, lying in the bed.


	69. Fall

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry it took so long again... I've been busy reading _**The Grapes of Wrath** _for school. If you ever decide to read it, don't. It's boring._

**RATED: K/T

* * *

**

**Autumn  
**064. Fall  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Madame Morrible hated autumn.

Oh, the leaves changing colors were pretty, yes, and the crispness of their air on her cheeks sent thrills of delight through her, sure, and the pumpkins revealing their plump orange selves was always fun to watch, indeed, but other than the beautiful simplicities of nature, autumn was horrible.

One simple reason: with autumn came the start of the school year.

With autumn came the prospect of the next nine months or so with a campus full of stuck-up, good-for-nothing students, college boys thick to the bone with testosterone and hair-tossing girls looking for a night of pleasure. With autumn came the bone-headed idiots who somehow managed to get into university so they could goof off, party, and stay up all hours of the night so that they can sleep through their classes the next day.

Yes, indeed, Madame Morrible hated autumn.


	70. Air

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Make of this one what you will… I guess it could be considered a book/musical combo… because in the book, she never goes to the sight of her sister's death and in the musical she doesn't fly away, but goes out and scolds Glinda, etc. So yeah, this doesn't make sense, but I wrote it anyway… _:-D

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Fly Away  
**054. Air  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The wind rushes past her as she flies through the air on the broomstick, away from where Fiyero stands in the woods. Her hair tangles itself in the current of air as she makes her way towards Munchkinland, towards the sound of her sister's screams. Even from afar she can sense Glinda in her bubble, heading towards the scene as well.

She lands as swiftly as she can behind a Munchkin's house, and stoops to watch the scene as it folds out – Glinda greeting a girl in pigtails, giving her Nessa's shoes, sending her along the Yellow Brick Road to see the Wizard.

Elphaba mounts her broomstick and begins to fly away, the air supporting her as she slowly floats upward.


	71. Spade

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Please note that this drabble does deal with _**racism**. _Please do not mistake the words of the characters to be my own opinions. Racism is dealt with in _**Wicked**_ itself, so I'm just kind of following that…and "spade" is a real slang term for a black person, according to dictionary. com… so yeah…And this is book-based… as is made clear by Fiyero's skin color and the appearances of Crope and Tibbett and Avaric._

**RATED: T

* * *

**

**Spade  
**050. Spade  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Look at that spade," Avaric spat. "All dark-skinned and blue-tattooed and thinking he's better than the rest of us by sitting as far away as possible." Crope and Tibbett sat down at the table.

Galinda shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Now, Avaric, it can't be right to just –"

"I know! It ain't right to just sit over there like some cock-eyed, smart aleck, son-of-a–"

"No," she interrupted as Boq joined them, "that's not what I mean. We don't treat Elphaba much different because _her_ skin is green… Why should we treat him different?"

"Because, clearly, if Elphaba's skin didn't have the jading condition, she would be white."

"Oh." Galinda flipped her hair, and poked at the bluish-gray mesh that was served for lunch. "Right."


	72. Life

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Oy… life is frustrating, anyone agree? So this drabble doesn't make sense…It doesn't fit into the context of either musical or book, so just imagine it's a white if bit… I was angry and felt like killing characters… hehe…_

**RATED: T

* * *

**

**Blood  
**087. Life  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Boq took the knife and thrust it into Elphaba's skull. "That's for my sanity," he whispered. He yanked the knife from Elphaba's head and watched the green woman fall, black blood pooling on the floor.

He sauntered over to where Nessarose stood, her arms and hands tied as Elphaba's had been. Tightening his grip on the knife, he shoved it into Nessarose's stomach. "That's for my life," he said, letting the blood flow as he pulled the knife from Nessarose's gut and let her fall in a heap beside her dead, emerald sister.

Boq stepped over Nessarose's body to where Glinda was bound and gagged. Boq raised the knife and plunged it deep into Glinda's heart. The crimson blood spilled out, staining her gown. "That's for my love," he whispered and watched the life drain from her eyes as she collapsed.


	73. Taste

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: OK so I leave for camp tomorrow… so there won't be any updates through Saturday… so review extra now! _:-D

**RATED: K**

**Sugar  
**039. Taste  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Milla's mouth had puckered. "It is a bit tart, isn't it?"

Shenshen's nose had wrinkled. "Tart? It's downright sour!"

Pfanneee's brow had furrowed. "Tart? Sour? Those don't even begin to describe the bitterness!"

Galinda's cheeks had pinked. "I'm sorry… I've never made lemonade before…"

Shenshen's eyebrow had raised. "Galinda… you did put sugar in this, didn't you?"

Galinda's eyes had widened. "Um… yes?"


	74. White

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: OK, so I'm back from camp, and ff.n is absolutely retarded! I definitely thought I'd updated at least three times since I got home, but I guess the submissions haven't been going through. The runners of ff.n really need to get their butts in gear and fix all of the problems that have sprung up on the sight... le sigh_

**RATED: K+**

**White  
**019. White  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda the Good's life was made of white.

The first memory was of a soft, white cake.

The first dress was flowing, white silk.

The first shoes were pure, white kid.

The first light was glowing and white.

The first kiss was electrically white.

The first date was at the White Ballroom.

The first teacher had curly white hair.

The first love wore white, leather pants.

The first ally wore a white laboratory coat.

The first stranger wore a white and blue dress.

The last good-bye was mournfully white.

Glinda the Good's life was made of white.

Was it to fit her personality?

Or to contrast with Elphaba's?

Or to magnify the blemishes when they came?

Glinda the Good's life was made of white.

And she would rather it was made of green.


	75. Months

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So the workers of fanfiction(dot)net really need to get it in gear... it wouldn't let me update documents yesterday, that's why there wasn't an update... so to make up for it - yes, that's right! - 3 days straight of drabbles! I haven't done it in a while and I suppose it's about time. (Also, in case you've noticed that my usual format is different, the horizontal bar tool won't work for me anymore... so yeah..._

**RATED: K+**

**Locked Away  
**009. Months  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

How many months have I been locked away?

Slave to the _Madame_. And I determinedly call her _Madame,_ despite her insistence that I call her by her given name – Nessarose.

_Nessa, _she would say. _It's Nessa, Boq. Please, call me Nessa. _

And I would say, _Yes, Madame. _ And walk away, enjoying the cold clicking sound of the heels of my shoes on the marble flooring.

How many months have we been locked away?

The Munchkins are all in uproar, though not physical. Mentally, every Munchkin has a war of rage going on in his head. _We should fight back! But we cannot because we are enslaved. We should take a stand! There's one of her and so many of us! But she is the sister of the Wicked Witch of the West, and she could call upon her at any time to destroy us with a flick of her little finger. _

How many months has she been locked away?

She tries to be loving. At least, she tries to be loving to me. But her heart is cold, dark, hard. She has locked herself away within her own world, within her own mind, and she continuously pretends that perhaps by enslaving me and by enslaving the rest of our people she can force me into love.

How many months has this torture gone on?

How many more months will this torture continue?


	76. Lightning

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Little Elphaba and little dependent Nessarose are so fun…Oh, and about the three days in a row... yeah, it didn't happen. Yesterday was my last day of summer (started junior year today) so yeah I just felt like being lazy... sorry!_

**RATED: K**

**Nightling  
**068. Lightning  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"ELBAPHA!"

Elphaba threw off the covers as another bolt of lightning crashed outside. Her bare feet padding on the floor, she hurried over to her little sister's bedside.

"Elbapha," sobs little Nessarose, "the nightling scares me!"

"Shhhh," eight-year-old Elphaba says, crawling into her handicapped sister's bed. The thunder rolls again and the rain falls heavier and the lightning flashes again, lighting up the small, bare bedroom. Elphaba sings softly, almost in a whisper, her lips almost touching her sister's ear. "Everything's going to be all right," she says soothingly when she has finished the lullaby. Elphaba wraps her arms around Nessarose tightly and hums in her little sister's ear until Nessarose has fallen asleep.


	77. Club

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Beware, violent character death… it is a death that happened in the book, though, so it's not like I'm killing a character for the heck of it…_

**RATED: T**

**Excruciating Pain  
**049. Club  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The pain is unbearable.

Each beating is worse than its previous brother.

As each Gale Forcer grows tired, he backs away and is replaced with another.

My shirt has been ripped to shreds, hanging about my torso in tattered remains.

The whip reaches forward, crossing my back, reaching over my shoulder, stings wickedly, bites evilly, draws blood, then is dragged away. With a crack it is brought down again.

The skin on my back is striped with a hundred lines of blood.

The Gale Forcers laugh wickedly.

And at last, as my eyes begin to swim with an inky redness, as I realize I will not be able to stand anymore of the harsh, whipping pain, I see the biggest guard of them all step forward, grinning, his crooked teeth flashing at me.

"Farewell, Your Highness," he says cruelly, and lifts a huge club over his head.

There is one final blow of excruciating pain, and then I feel no more…


	78. Christmas

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry, yesterday was the family reunion and my parents were in charge of it, so I had no time to post… sorry about that… heh… Oh yeah, so really I see this as taking place in the musical world, but I used Lurlinemas anyway (because they wouldn't really have Christmas in Oz…)_

**RATED: K**

**Lurlinemas  
**095. Christmas  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Galinda clicks the heels of her new white shoes together, sniffs daintily, lifts her skirt so she can watch the glare of the leather…

"Galinda!" snaps Momsy. "Put your skirt down!"

Galinda hurriedly pushes down the skirt, watching the folds of rich, blue velvet fall downward. She shakes her head furiously, sending her pale curls flying about.

"Ohhhh, Galinda, you know Momsy didn't mean to say that so angrily," Momsy said, dropping to her knees, even in her best red evening gown. "Come, now, darling, I will let you open a present early."

Galinda flounces inside, following Momsy. The Lurlinemas party will begin as soon as the guests start to arrive. "Here," says Momsy, selecting one of the presents from beneath the Lurlinemas tree. "Happy Lurlinemas!" Galinda plops herself on the ground as the doorbell rang. Momsy hurries away, leaving Galinda to open and examine the present. It is a doll, which a face of painted porcelain and beautiful golden curls and blue eyes that open and close, dressed in a frilly pink gown. The doll looked almost like a miniature Galinda.

Suddenly, Momsy and Popsical come into the room, leading a stream of guests. Galinda watches the guests enter and her mouth drops open.

Adults. Every one of them.

Galinda burst into tears.


	79. Home

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: OK, so Fiyero is a little… out of character, I suppose, for the book… so my excuse is that this is book Fiyero with musical Fiyero's personality (pre-Shiz, of course, because he definitely smartens up and softens up when he meets Elphaba). So, yeah… _

**RATED: K **

**Simply A Boy  
**090. Home  
_by Fiyero Oberon _

Fiyero reclines in the tattered sofa casually, a book gripped in his dark hands.

"You're not reading again, are you?"

He cranes his neck to see Sarima, his seventeen-year-old bride standing in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"What's wrong with reading?" asks Fiyero.

"Fiyero," says Sarima sharply, "you're fifteen. Time to start thinking like a man, not a boy."

"Get out," says Fiyero smoothly.

"This is my castle as much as yours," argues Sarima, gesturing to the stone walls of Kiamo Ko.

"Get out," he repeats.

"No."

"I am Prince of the Arjiki!" he cries.

"And I am your Princess!" she sobs.

"By marriage!" he shouts, throwing the book to the ground and standing up. "If I banish you, I banish you, you are simply a woman!"

"And you are simply a boy!" cries Sarima before running from the room.


	80. Fixed

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry I missed the last update… I didn't have time to be on the computer all day (I don't think I've done that since I was 12…)_

**RATED: K+**

**Forgiveness  
**072. Fixed  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Please… Sarima… I need to fix this…"

"Auntie Guest, there is simply no reason for me to think –"

"Sarima!"

"Elphaba!"

Silence.

"Sarima, I have to confess to you… I need the forgiveness… I need release from the shackles of my sin… I need –"

"No."

"Sarima –"

"I don't believe you. You're trying to frighten me, that's all."

"I –"

"Stop it!"

"You stop it! Stop denying it, Sarima. Fiyero never loved you, I don't know if he even loved me… But it happened, it was real, and there's nothing you can do to change it."

"Elphaba, please –"

"Sarima, please – give me your forgiveness. Acknowledge my sin, and Fiyero's, just forgive me… please…"

"No… no, I'm sorry…"

"Sarima –"

"No."


	81. Shade

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I haven't done a Shiz drabble of Galinda and Elphaba in a while, so here's one…_

**RATED: K+**

**Sunshine  
**075. Shade  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Why are you in the shade?" demands Galinda.

Elphaba looks up at her coldly. "Because it's cool in the shade," she says, her voice icy.

"Why aren't you in the sun?" says Galinda. "The sun's good for you!"

"Too much sun can kill a person," says Elphaba distantly, moving her eyes back to her book.

"But not enough sun can kill a person as well," says Galinda.

Elphaba's eyebrows raise, though her eyes do not move from the pages of her book. "Untrue," she states simply.

"Well, sunshine is still good for you! It makes you bright and happy and you can tan and – oh! I didn't mean –"

"I know you didn't," says Elphaba coolly. "Now move along, Miss Galinda."

"But, I –"

"Would you please go away?"

And with a harrumph, Galinda tosses her hair and stomps away.


	82. Weeks

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note:_

**RATED: K+**

**Just Wait  
**008. Weeks  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

For weeks she waits. She waits for her arrival… she waits for her to come back… she sits… and she waits…

She reads a book. She flips her hair. She examines her reflection in a hand mirror. She straightens her skirt. She checks the clock. She sits impatiently through classes. She writes in her diary. She writes to her father. She eats small meals. She sleeps. She wakes. She reads a book.

"Did she say where she was going?" she asks. She has asked before, a hundred times and more, perhaps, she has lost track of the exact count.

"No," is the patient and repeated reply. "She said something about the western skies, but said nothing of a final destination."

"Did she say when she was coming back?" Another question repeated a hundred times and more, perhaps.

"Nessa," says Galinda softly, "I don't think she's ever coming back."

:---:

_Author's Note: OK, I haven't done a booster chapter in a while… and I have been really happy with my review count, and I really want to thank you all for that! But I just want to ask that everyone who reads this please, please, please review… just a quick little, "This was good!" if you feel so compelled, just leave something please… thanks!_


	83. Shapes

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I know, I know, I'm a slacker… sorry, I haven't had significant amounts of times to write for the past few days… sorry…_:-D

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Mystic  
**041. Shapes  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The mist creates a mystical world about her as she walks evenly down the Yellow Brick Road. The great form of the wall of the Emerald City looms faintly ahead, but Glinda trains her eyes not on the City but on the level rows of yellow bricks beneath her feet and sweeping skirts. She sniffs delicately and looks up.

Ahead two shapes move toward her, and Glinda's mind wanders briefly – is it Boq and Nessarose, returning from a journey to the Emerald City? Is it the Wizard and Madame Morrible, searching for her to make a request of her? Is it Fiyero and Elphaba, fleeing once again from the "wrath of the Wizard"?

Glinda continues to walk blindly through the thick, numinous mist, watching the two forms come closer. She draws in a short breath and goes bravely onward.

The two nameless men nod absently at Glinda and she nods graciously back.

The mist creates a mysterious world about her as she walks evenly down the road.


	84. Where?

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Slacker, again, I know…but I am now _**Linus** _in_ **You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown**_, plus mountains of homework so I don't have the time I did over the summer… my sincerest apologies… Reviews do inspire me to write faster, however._

**RATED: K+

* * *

**

**Artificial  
**078. Where?  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The Emerald City is a sleek place that lacks substance.

There is nothing _real_ about the City of Emeralds. All is made of green steel and jade iron and lime aluminum. All emerald metals, all metals man-made. Nothing is natural in the Emerald City, all is artificially flavored.

The Center Fountain around which the entire City is built circulates the same bitter-tasting water: drained out the bottom, sucked through an iron tube back to the top, where it is sent bubbling up and out and bounces and flows down to the bottom of the fountain, where it is drained out the bottom once again.

There are no trees in the ultramodern design of the Emerald City. The ultramodern design allows for no trees, no flowers, no bushes, nothing of the natural world.

But where is the place where all conveniences are met without harming the environmental world? The Emerald City blocks all that is of nature, Shiz students trample plants, all of Gillikin tramples plants. But in Munchkinland and Quadling Country and the Vinkus, not all conveniences are met – no indoor plumbing here, no entertainment there.

Elphaba juts out her chin and struts down the metallic, unnatural walkway of the Emerald City, the heels of her boots clacking sharply. _Where is the place where all is perfect? It's not a place you could get to by a boat, or a train… it's some far, far away… beyond the moon… beyond the rain…_


	85. Breakfast

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Gah. I really need to start doing these regularly like I'm supposed to._

**RATED: K

* * *

**

**Biscuits and Gravy  
**056. Breakfast  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The biscuit crumbled between her slender, green fingers, falling gently into the brown-grey sausage gravy. She lifted a spoon and began stirring delicately with her left hand while her right worked absently at untying the string around the parchment.

With a bite of the biscuit-and-gravy breakfast, Elphaba abandoned the food and focused on the string knot. At last she extracted a piece of parchment, dipped a quill in an inkpot, and set the pen to paper.

She glanced over at the other bed, already covered in pale pink satin sheets and rich, purple velvet blankets and fluffy, frilly lavender pillows. Beneath the bows and silk and lace was buried a small figure, of which Elphaba could only see a head of brilliantly blonde hair.

Elphaba turned back to the paper, took another bite of the breakfast mixture, and wrote:

_My dear father,_

_There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz._


	86. Dinner

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Hey, I updated when I was supposed to! This is the companion to _**056. Breakfast** _(the last one I posted). Thanks to 'taylor' for the inspiration._

_So do you know how much I would absolutely love to break 400 reviews? Because I really would. And I've got 380 now…don't think me superficial though, I definitely read each review individually and appreciate them all!_

**RATED: K

* * *

**

**Dramatic  
**058. Dinner  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

She violently spears a piece of egg with her fork and shoves it in her mouth, chewing gloomily. The window of her suite faces west and the sun outside is growing orange and lowering to the horizon, sending streaks of orange light across her pink comforter. Chewing on a bit of ham, she gulps down the remains of her pumpkin juice and places the empty dishes of her dinner to the side.

She had brought her food upstairs on the first evening of her stay at Shiz for the sake of being dramatic. Drama comes with popularity, and Galinda was quite good at popularity so, naturally, she was quite good at drama as well.

Dusk was coming and that girl – Alphabet? – had still not returned from dinner.

Galinda suddenly knew what to do for dramatic effect and she began searching her bags for a notebook and pen. When they were located, she threw herself on her stomach on the bed and began to write in short, loopy handwriting:

_Dearest darlingst Momsy and Popsical,_

_There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz._


	87. Spirit

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: "Now wait just a clock tick! I know it may be difficult for that blissful, blonde brain of yours to comprehend … But it's happened... it's real. And you can wave that ridiculous wand all you want, you can't change it!" So yeah, I'm actually updating! Sorry… I've been amazingly busy with _**You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown** _(we opened last weekend! Yay!) and so all of my creative energy has been focused on that show… plus school… So yeah. But here is the 87th drabble!_

**RATED: K+

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**Crystalline  
**055. Spirit  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

The water lapped at her bare feet and she sniffed, letting the salty scent of the ocean fill her nostrils. The sunlight danced playfully on the crystalline waves and the rising tide left wads of green seaweed around her ankles as it retreated back into the ocean depths, only to come back up and lap at her feet again. She lifted her skirts out of the water, but the back still trailed on the ground and the dirty water ruined the lacy edgings on it… but Glinda realized she didn't care much.

The waves lapped together, creating a whispering sound that sent chills dancing down her spine – she knew that whisper… _Glinda, Glinda… Glinda, Glinda…_

She steps away sharply, cold realization setting in. The dry sand stuck to her wet feet, but she ignored it as she stomped away. That voice is dead… that voice is gone… she can never hear that voice again.

_Glinda, Glinda… Glinda, Glinda…_

Glinda shudders and hurries away from the ocean's spiritual voice of Elphaba.


	88. Friends

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I don't like this one much at all. Not very creative… I've been lacking inspiration for this one, give me ideas and I'll give you credit. :-D_

**RATED: K+

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**Hands Touch, Eyes Meet  
**021. Friends  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

She watched as the rest of the school gawked at Elphaba's strange dancing pattern – lift the arm, crook the elbow, twitch the foot, twirl around, wave the hands…

"It's not like it's your fault." Six monosyllable words ring endlessly in her head, no longer taking the tone quality of Fiyero's voice, but sounding more and more like Elphaba's each time the six words repeat… _It's not like it's your fault…_

"Excuse me." She handed Fiyero the wand, flipped her hair, and stepped towards Elphaba. "May I cut in?"

Lift the arm, crook the elbow, twitch the foot, twirl around, wave the hands.

Galinda and Elphaba locked eye contact as they twirled and joined hands – and suddenly, the first moment, and a mutual friendship was born.


	89. Who?

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So reviews are down, but I know there are readers. I don't care if you just say, "I read it, it's good," or "I read it, it sucks" or if you give a play-by-play grammar analysis, all I ask is that you take thirty seconds to type a few words in a review. Thanks:-D_

**RATED: K+

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**I'm Not That Girl  
**076. Who?  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

It's not a question of who.

She knows who.

The girl with the yellow curls, the pink accessories, the preppy dresses and adoring friends.

The girl with the blithe smile, lithe limb, gold hair with a gentle curl… Her eyes glow with counterfeit amusement as she laughs at his jokes. She watches him vying for her attention, all but jumping up and down to get her eyes to focus on him and not the tall, suave Fiyero.

Boq waves his hat in the air, trying to get Galinda's attention.

And Nessarose sits, her hands folded in her lap, waiting patiently for him to come back to her.


	90. School

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update this… I was in Virginia visiting relatives for Thanksgiving and then ff.n was stupid and wouldn't let me upload documents._

_I forgot to credit her for the last one (Who?), and she receives the same credit for this one too. Thanks to _**Danielle** _aka_ **Nade-Naberrie** _for selecting the prompt and which central character because I was lacking inspiration. THANKS DANIELLE:-D_

_Two more things to say:_

_One – After this drabble, there are only 10 more! Yay!_

_Two – The last drabble got over 20 reviews! Thanks SO much! (I would love it if you could do it again… ;-) )

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_

**RATED: K+**

**Shiz U  
**088. School  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"I'm not dumb!"

How many times has she uttered those three words? Cried those three short words? Shouted those three short words?

"I'm not dumb! I've been accepted at Shiz U!"

Shiz University, one of the leading schools in all of Oz. _She_ was accepted at Shiz University. She was _not_ dumb.

"I'm not dumb! I've been accepted to the college with the top professors, the top grades, and the top average of successful students in all of Gillikin!"

She was not dumb. If she was dumb, she wouldn't have been permitted to attend a school with the top professors and grades and average of successful students.

"I'm going to study sorcery." … "I'M NOT DUMB!"


	91. Work

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: 9 left! It's so weird to think these are finally nearing their end..._

_This is the first time (I think) that I've asked for ideas... but I'm lost on how to do the prompt _**Thanksgiving**_ other than, obviously, someone being thankful for something... ideas, anyone?_

Oh and on the last one, I know I forgot to mention the character, but I thought it was obvious that it was Galinda...

**RATED: K+

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**Good  
**089. Work  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Glinda smiles and waves after the little girl, watching those bouncy pigtails sway back and forth as she skips down the golden lane, altogether far too cheerful for Glinda's taste.

It's interesting how Glinda's taste has changed by knowing Elphaba. The optimistic, flouncy Galinda she had been before Shiz would have loved to tug merrily on those braids or pinch those round, rosy cheeks… but this Glinda? This Glinda is appalled by the sickeningly sweet voice of the alien girl, disgusted by her high-voice and wide-eyed innocence.

But this is Glinda's effort – being Good. And with Goodness comes optimism and flounciness and golden roads and bouncy pigtails and round, rosy cheeks.

It's hard work, being Good.


	92. Thanksgiving

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. 

_Author's Note: So, here's this one... tough prompt, considering there's no Thanksgiving in Oz, and I didn't really want to just create my own holiday, as it's been done before... so I've taken liberty and changed it from Thanksgiving to just Giving Thanks... :-D And for the record, this drabble is supposed to convey a sense of irony..._

**RATED: K+

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**Thankful  
**093. Thanksgiving  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Elphaba looks around her and she feels something well up inside of her – something bubbling from her center, something from her very soul… a fountain of strange emotion, a sensation she realizes she has never felt before and though it takes a moment for her to place it, it is almost instantaneous that she recognizes it – thankfulness.

Nessarose sits in her wheelchair, her hands folded in her lap, and Elphaba is thankful she was not born handicapped like her sister.

Boq is seated beside Elphaba's sister, eyes focused not on the girl of tragic beauty but on the flouncy, ignorant Galinda, and Elphaba is thankful she is not foolish enough to dote on impossible dreams.

Fiyero is distracted, as he is always lately, and Galinda is vying for his attention, and Elphaba finds herself suddenly thankful that she is not working toward a goal that everyone else realizes is pointless.


	93. Drink

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I'm so sorry I've been ignoring this... I've been lacking Wicked inspiration a lot lately. I'd like to point out, however, that yesterday was _**Every Little Trait**_'s one-year birthday! The title for today's drabble comes from a lyric from Stephen Sondheim's brilliant_ **Into the Woods.**

_I'd also like to point out that this is a friendship piece. Many people are interpreting it as Gelphie, which I suppose is all right, but do know that I despise Gelphie so this wasn't written with that intention._

**RATED: T

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**One Peculiar, Passing Moment  
**060. Drink  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Forty-seven!"

"Aye!" "Amen!" "I'll drink to that!"

Elphaba sits, hands folded in her lap, lips pursed, watching her fellows students intoxicate themselves, watching Avaric stand and make random toasts – "Forty-seven!" and "To the Quadling rubies!" and "To green skin and blue diamonds!" – watching Crope and Tibbett pouring beer into each others' mouths, watching Milla and Shenshen and Pfannee giggling and pulling hair and spilling vodka, watching Boq fall sideways off his chair.

Glinda sips daintily at her beer, eyes big. She takes in the alcohol in sips, wisely avoiding altogether drunkenness. Elphaba has avoided drinking altogether.

And suddenly Glinda's lips are curving into a small smile. And Elphaba grins back.


	94. New Year

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I don't like this one... hopefully it's the last sucky one though haha. Enjoy, please review, there's only a few more left:-)_

**RATED: K+

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**The Same  
**095. New Year  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Year after year, it's always the same. He sits here, pulling ropes and flipping switches and pumping pedals and shouting into microphones. He sits there, ordering impossible demands, demanding unattainable orders.

And when he's not ordering impossible demands, demanding unattainable orders, he's sitting there with pen and paper, scribbling out ideas for new disguises. Or with yards and yards of fabric, sharp needles, long strands of thread, creating new disguises. Or updating his sophisticated sound system or updating the lighting equipment or painting or building or tearing down.

Year after year, it's always the same.

Last year? The same. This year? The same. The new year? The same.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz hates himself, his country, his world, and his job.


	95. Family

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Happy New Year! My first chapter of anything posted in 2007. Please review (only 20 away from 500... and only 5 drabbles left!)_

**RATED: K+

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**Complicated  
**024. Family  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Elphaba – Elphie… you don't really talk about your family much, do you?"

"What? Oh – um, no, I guess not."

"Why not?"

"I don't know… I just… I just don't."

"What's your Momsy's name?"

"My what?"

"Your Momsy – mother?"

"Melena."

"That's lovely! And your father is – Fleckerd, right? He's the Mayor of Munchkin City, right?"

"Governor of Munchkinland, yeah…"

"My Popsical is – huh. Come to think of it, I don't really know what Popsical does."

"All right."

"Don't you like your family?"

"That's – um, that's a rather complicated question."

"How is that complicated? Do you like them, yes or no?"

"Well – um – no."

"OH HOW TRAGIC! No one should ever have to answer 'no' to that question! Elphie, I'm so sorry! How about this – I, Galinda, solemnly swear to be family to you, Elphaba, so that you never have to answer 'no' to such a question again. Deal?"

"Um, all right… deal."


	96. Teammates

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: So, since there aren't really sports (that we see) in Oz, and I didn't feel like writing another what-if Defying Gravity scenario and I didn't feel like writing about the Wizard and Morrible, I took a bit of liberty with this prompt. It's more along the lines of "friends" than "teammates," but… oh well. Only 4 more! Please review!_

_Oh, I also keep forgetting to tell you guys... I got cast as the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz at my school! Yay:-D_

**RATED: K+

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**Unexpected  
**026. Teammates  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"Are you okay?"

Fiyero's head snaps up, dark eyes searching for the owner of the voice. He quickly recognizes the boy – the very stereotype of a Munchkinlander, short with a round nose and a sprinkling of freckles. His hair is a mop of yellow curls and he squints to see into the darkened room.

A shiver trickles down Fiyero's spine and he curls his lanky legs closer, drawing the thin blanket nearer.

He nods. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" asks the Munchkinlander, pushing the door further open. "You had a rough first day – don't take Crope and Tibbett too seriously or you'll hurt yourself."

The pauper prince manages a small smile. "Thank you, I'm fine."

"It's Boq," says the Munchkinlander, pushing his way into the room. His eyes flicker their focus from the tattered blanket to the solitary candle to the stack of second- or third-hand books. He extends a chubby-fingered hand.

Fiyero smiles and thrusts out his own bony hand into Boq's. "Fiyero," he says. "Fiyero of the Arjiki."


	97. How?

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: I'm constantly asked this and I constantly ignore it because the wicked100 fad is big enough right now, but I originally found the prompts on the rent100 LJ group when my friend decided to do it for Mimi. So yeah._

_Only 3 left! Please review:-)_

**RATED: K+

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**Her Fault  
**081. How?  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

He loved her.

He did.

But how could he have ever expected something to happen?

She was so perfect in everything she did. The way she moves, the way she flicks her wrist, the way she flips her hair… The long, white neck, jaunty way she holds her head, the slow, seductive blinking of those wide, blue eyes, the teasing smile…

She was so perfect. And he was so… _not_.

But it was _her _fault he was here now. It was _her_ fault he was glued to Nessarose's side, waiting every beck and call.

He loved her.

He hated her.


	98. Square

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for the reviews! I know sometimes it probably feels like I ignore you because I don't respond to each person, but I read them all individually and I follow the trail of each one of you and your opinions of each one. I'm so incredibly grateful for all of you! Thanks!!_

_Also, the next drabble (and second-to-last) will be a Writer's Choice prompt… and as of now, I have no ideas. So… the person who submits the best will have their prompt used and of course a big thank you!! _:-P

**RATED: K

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**Galinda's Birthday  
**043. Square  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

"OH!" Galinda's squeals sent Elphaba's hands flying upwards to press firmly on her ears.

The door to their suite stood open and Milla, Pfannee, and Shenshen crowded the door, each one carrying stacks of square boxes wrapped in gaudy silver wrapping and tied up with golden ribbon. "They're from us," said Pfannee, her cheeks rosy. "And your suitors – Horrible Morrible wouldn't let the boys in the dorms."

The three girls spill in the doorway and the gifts topple onto the floor and bed, setting all four into fits of giggles. Galinda sat down on her bed, picking up boxes and examining the tags on them and shaking them fiercely to try to determine what they were.

"Happy birthday, Galinda!" Milla, Pfannee, and Shenshen cried in unison and all three joined Galinda in opening the presents. With a loud huff, Elphaba stood and hurried out of the room. Shenshen sniggered. "Do green beans not celebrate birthdays? They aren't really born, are they, they just sort of grow."

But Galinda wasn't entirely ignorant – she hadn't failed to see Elphaba toss her own square box in the pile, this one wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. "Milla, hand me that one," she said. Milla looked at the package disapprovingly but tossed it to Galinda anyway.

Galinda caught the box and glanced at the tag – sure enough, scribbled on the small white slip of paper was, _To Galinda, From Elphaba._ Galinda made quick work of the knot in the twine and tore at the brown paper and folded back the flaps of the box to reveal –

A book.

A big book with black leather binding and the words _A History of Saint Glinda_ inscribed on the front.

Galinda flipped through it quickly.

There were no _pictures_.


	99. Light

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: Thanks everyone for the reviews! So this isn't the Writer's Choice prompt because that one turned out better than I expected and I decided to save it for last, so you're just going to have to wait to find out which one I chose! Sorry!_

_Only one more…_

**RATED: K

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**Easily Recognized  
**073. Light  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

A bubble was an unusual form of transportation, she had to admit, but Glinda the Good was an unusual sort of girl.

"Light as a feather, yet durable enough," Morrible had said. "Easily recognized, too."

It was those two words that bother Glinda the most.

"Easily recognized."

Those two words changed Glinda's feeling of importance to the demeaning realization that she was an icon, and only that. She was a symbol of goodness, a fluffball of pink cotton candy, only there to make people smile. There is nothing there but sugary goodness. Like a chocolate Bunny – it looks delicious on the outside, but the inside is hollow and disappointing.

"Easily recognized."


	100. Scared

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

_Author's Note: It's done... This thing has been my pet project for over a year, and it's finally done. Thank you so much to everyone who has encouraged me, every single reviewer, I appreciate it so much. My only goal with this was to write 100 drabbles and hopefully get 100 reviews with it, but it turned it so much more and I am so incredibly thankful to you all for that._

_This Writer's Choice prompt was suggested by _**Amy**_, but the idea of writing something about Glinda and Elphaba just before Elphaba is killed was given by _**Taylor**_. Thanks to both of you!_

_Thanks again to everyone who has read these drabbles... Just one more read, one more review, and we're done! Thanks!!_

**RATED: K+

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**Goodbye  
**100. Scared  
_by Fiyero Oberon_

Her heart thumps – just beyond that wall, just behind that door, the entire plan has been planned, designed, calculated, presented.

Will it work?

She sends up a silent prayer that it will.

She looks at Glinda – reaching out a green hand, she gently pulls one of the flaxen curls and watches it boing back into place. A crystal tear slips down Glinda the Good's cheek and she lets out a dry sob before flinging herself toward Elphaba, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

"Don't go," she whispers.

"Goodbye," is Elphaba's only reply.

Glinda steps back and watches as Elphaba straightens her hat, sets her jaw, bites her lip. There is a crease between her eyes, a line of concentration, a wrinkle of doubt. Her eyes are wide with anxiety.

Smoothly and swiftly, Elphaba sweeps out of the room, slamming the big oak door behind her. Glinda falls to the floor in hysteria, weeping for what she knows is the loss of a beautiful, beautiful woman.


End file.
